Mrs Rand-Brown
by Chevesic
Summary: Lydia and Wickham have eloped. But, Lydia eavesdrops and overhears the conversation that takes place between Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham and learns that Wickham never intended to marry her. This causes her to decide that she does not want to remain with Mr Wickham, after all. HEA for all the Bennet sisters!
1. Chapter I

"_But he [Darcy] found Lydia absolutely resolved on remaining where she was" _

Chapter I

Lydia Bennet's amazement upon seeing the odious Mr Darcy at the lodgings taken by her _dear_ George Wickham at - Street was great indeed. Curiosity was a chief characteristic of her mind and, had she been in possession of greater understanding or, indeed, of better judgment, could have enabled her to improve herself considerably by engaging in serious pursuits. As it was, she was a young woman of unchecked impulsiveness and frivolity- a fact which had led her father on more than one occasion to refer to her as 'the silliest girl in England'. Unfortunately for Lydia, censure seldom affected her. This was a consequence of being a favourite youngest child.

On this present occasion, Lydia's curiosity- often lamented by her two eldest sisters as the cause of her being a most shameless gossip- would serve her well. However, she would not receive the opportunity to exercise the same until after engaging in most vexing conversation with that hateful man from Derbyshire. No sooner did he appear at their lodgings did he demand to speak with her! What business was it of his whom she married? All of his estate and income could not prevent him from being the most dreadful bore!

Nevertheless, she could not well refuse to see him. Her dear George may be angry with her. But, she was resolved. Nothing should separate her from George! Her future husband! Mrs George Wickham! How well that sounded! And how exciting- that she, the youngest, should be married before her elder sisters! She anticipated, with great pleasure, showing her wedding ring to all her sisters and being addressed as Mrs George Wickham by them. They would be green with envy!

Thus fortified by her pleasant reflections, she prepared to meet Mr Darcy. As she entered the sitting room of the lodgings, she noted that Mr Darcy was white with anger. How dreadfully dull it must be to be so angry all the time. To be sure, no man could compare to George, whose charming address and pleasing manner were unparalleled. She had been piqued when he had seemed to show Lizzy preference but, of course, he did not admire her at all. It was her conviction that gentlemen wanted lively wives. It was what her Mama had always told her and she had observed it herself. Gentlemen always paid Kitty and her endless compliments and pretty attentions whereas they were not quite as friendly with her other sisters. How did Jane and Lizzy and even Mary hope to secure husbands if they did not flirt a little bit?

"Miss Lydia," began Mr Darcy, with great effort at composure, "Allow me to escort you as you return to Longbourn or, if you should wish it, to the protection of your Uncle and Aunt Gardiner in Gracechurch Street. It is of the foremost importance that you should quit your present circumstance at the earliest. Disgraceful as it may be, I believe that it may yet be possible that your reputation be salvaged and the scandal controlled."

Lydia laughed. Her bountiful good humour seldom allowed for any loss of temper and even her fits of anger were of short duration, usually terminating in having her wish fulfilled. In the rare occasion that Lydia did not have her way, a day or two of rigorous sulking often ensured that she be given some lesser treat by way of mitigating her disappointment. Eventually, her perpetual cheerfulness resurfaced. A direction issued by a disagreeable man was insufficient to rouse her temper.

"I have no intention of quitting my dear Mr Wickham! We are to be married, Mr Darcy."

Mr Darcy's countenance reflected incredulity and a measure of disgust. He had little regard for the younger Bennet girls but, for the sake of his beloved Elizabeth, would suffer the impudence of this maddening child. With a degree of discomfort, he recalled that it could have been Georgiana who found herself in this unfortunate predicament. Lydia Bennet was but a year younger than his own sister. He forced himself to speak with gentleness and convince Lydia of the folly of her own conduct.

"Miss Lydia, consider!" said he, "Consider the misery which is likely to result in your remaining with Lt. Wickham in this manner! You are condemning your family by your continued display of impropriety in living with a man outside wedlock! Surely you must see that Mr Wickham has no serious designs upon you. If it were indeed his intention that you should be wed, why has he not taken any steps to ensure that end? Mr Wickham must know that you are neither friendless nor unprotected. He must be aware that your family would make haste in discovering your whereabouts. Why has he been in London this past week and not taken you to Scotland immediately? All is not lost, Miss Lydia. I promise that I shall assist you to the best of my ability. I believe that your friends can be prevailed upon to receive you, despite your conduct and the dreadful situation that you find yourself in."

Lydia was dismissive. "I am resolved in remaining where I am, Mr Darcy," she said, stoutly. "What do I care for any of my friends when I am to be married to the most wonderful gentleman on God's Earth? I shall not be cheated of my triumph! I care nothing for you and I do not wish for your help. Lt Wickham _loves_ me and we shall be married as soon as the proper arrangements can be made. It does not much signify when. So, Mr Darcy, I shall thank you if you were to leave us be."

Mr Darcy reined both his temper and his despair. It was no light thing for a gentleman of considerable means, especially one whose counsel was much sought after and deferred to, to find himself helpless in the face of a child who was bent upon her own ruin. Darcy could not forget Elizabeth's tears at their last meeting. There was nothing he would not do to ensure her happiness and well-being. He also felt the burden of guilt. To think that he, who knew Wickham character and habits better than anyone else, could have acted to prevent many young women from falling prey to his charms, but did not do so on account of his infernal pride! But he could be of no service to Lydia, who continually refused to heed her betters. Nothing could be done at this juncture, except to secure and expedite this marriage.

"Very well, Miss Lydia; I cannot force you to accompany me. If you should be kind enough to let Lt. Wickham know that I wished to speak with him, I should be much obliged to you."

Lydia left the room in a glow of conscious satisfaction. Mr Darcy had certainly _tried_ but he could not separate them. To think that he believed that a _small_ delay in a wedding should be enough to persuade her to leave the man she loved best in the world! But, she was glad that Mr Darcy had come. She was becoming impatient with George. Of course, now, Mr Darcy would direct him properly and they would be married soon; perhaps, within a day or two.

She was loath to leave Mr Wickham and Mr Darcy to their private conversation. Although she had no doubt of Wickham's affection towards herself, she longed to hear him declare his feelings before a third person. Whereas his passionate words and amorous feelings were always generously expressed, especially during their physical intimacies, her romantic girl-heart would not be satisfied until she heard his avowal of his love when he believed her to be ignorant. She could not but regard his handsome form, his passionate gaze and his officer-status with acute thrill. Could there be a more romantic picture!

She was momentarily defeated by the practical difficulty of listening to the conversation without having her presence known. But, happily, she remembered that the room next to the sitting room was unoccupied and the walls in the lodging house were exceptionally thin. Years of sly observation of her sisters and, even on occasion, her parents had rendered her skilled in the art of espionage. She procured a glass and placed it against the wall of the room and positioned her ear against it. It was with immense satisfaction that she noted that she could hear everything clearly.

Mr Darcy's words were distinct. "Why have you not married her yet, Wickham? It has been a week since the date of your elopement. I should have thought it prudent to marry her at once. You gain nothing by this delay. On the contrary, you risk the vengeance of her family and friends, to say nothing of the wrath of the army when they realise that they have a deserter to discipline. Say you will marry the girl and I will have a word with my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and make it seem that it was never your intention to desert His Majesty's army but only wished to elope and marry Miss Lydia against the wishes of her family."

"It was never my intention to marry the silly chit, as you well know, Darcy," said Wickham, in reply. His voice and its expression had lost all its charm and was a mere shell of its former self. He seemed both impatient and long-suffering. Lydia's heart stilled in her breast.

"Then, why did you deceive her thus? Is her life and those of her family mere sport to you?"

"Darcy, if Lydia and her family are ill-effected by her elopement and her subsequent cohabitation with a man to whom she is not married then the fault lies with her alone!" cried he, impatiently. "I found myself obliged to leave the regiment due to some pressing debts of honour."

"I am well aware, Wickham, of what your meaning is. You have not discharged your gambling debts. Have you also made sport of seducing the wives of your brother-officers?"

"If the ladies in question wished for a hard knock [1] from a man having considerably more expertise in the art than their callow husbands, who am I to deny them the pleasure? I assure you, Darcy, the ladies were both appreciative and grateful for the attentions I was generous enough to bestow on them. 'Tis merely a matter of misfortune for _me_ that they chose to advertise their indiscretions thus"

"You disgust me," said Darcy, coldly. "I confess that I am not surprised that your character has remained unchanged since our days at University. You still lay the blame for your misfortunes at all doors but your own."

"And, what, Sir, do you understand of misfortune? You, with an income exceeding ten thousand pounds annually and the master of a fine estate in Derbyshire, the envy of many a Peer! What right have you to expound on a subject of which you know nothing?"

Darcy deigned to reply. "As you are not inclined to marry Miss Lydia, may I enquire as to how you intend to manage your future?"

"My plans are indefinite as of yet. All that I can venture to say with any degree of certainty is that I intend to resign my commission at the earliest. As to my future situation, I see no purpose of conjecture."

Mr Darcy said nothing for a long time. The uncomfortable silence was broken when Wickham forced a laugh that was perhaps, _meant _to sound careless but was, in reality, merely feeble.

"I see that concealment is of little use. Very well; I plan on leaving England for the continent. There is still a possibility that I may make an advantageous marriage abroad, to a woman of fortune. I am afraid that Miss Lydia Bennet, for all her _attractions_, is insufficient to tempt me." He paused. "Unless, Darcy, you make me a _generous_ offer for her sake, which may convince me that my present plans had much better be altered. What say you?"

"You shall hear from me before long, Wickham" said Darcy, more coldly still. He had found the interview intolerable and had to exercise great restraint from landing a blow on Mr Wickham's person. He was of the opinion that it would not be wise to make promises in haste. He left the premises, intending to make an accurate assessment of the situation before he could proceed.

Lydia's devastation upon witnessing the conversation could scarcely be exaggerated. She was far less inclined towards feelings of shame and mortification than eldest two sisters and she cared very little for the good opinion of respectable society but she was so not wholly dead to all considerations of pride that she could view Wickham's betrayal with equanimity. It is no pleasant feeling to realise that one has been made a fool of. It is even less pleasant to face that one has been duped in love. But, Lydia was still a child of some fifteen summers. An indulged life thus far had left her poorly prepared to grapple with the consequences of her thoughtless actions. No sooner did her tears dry that she began to convince herself that Wickham was not being truthful in what he spoke to Mr Darcy. His dislike of Mr Darcy was well known. It must have been his purpose to anger Mr Darcy. Perhaps, George simply needed money and saw in Mr Darcy an opportunity? It must be mentioned that this defence of Wickham's character was not wholly devoid of occasional bursts of anger against him.

It is fortunate for Lydia that Lt Wickham was to receive another visitor before some half-hour had passed. It was the woman whom they had met upon first arriving to Town- Mrs Younge. Lydia once again took up her position behind the wall.

"George, what did that great man, Mr Darcy, want with you again?" Lydia was both infuriated by her use of his Christian name and confused as to Mr Darcy's dealings with them in the past.

"I believe that it was his purpose to convince me to marry Lydia and prevent her ruin."

On hearing this, Lydia could no longer pretend that George _did_ intend to marry her. She repressed her desire to cry and forced herself to pay attention to the conversation taking place. She intended to exasperate herself against Mr Wickham. After Mrs Younge left, she would announce to George her desire of leaving him immediately. Her youthful mind entertained hopes of him grovelling before her not to leave him. Perhaps, when confronted with the real possibility of her being lost to him forever, he would realise that he _did_ cherish her and they would be married.

"You are much too clever, George, to refuse Mr Darcy should he make you a generous offer to marry the girl. However, I must ask, what if he does not?"

"Should Mr Darcy come to the conclusion that the girl is not worth his effort and expense, I shall proceed with my plans of leaving England for the continent immediately."

"What is to become of the girl, George?"

"Come, come Louisa! This coyness will not do! A youthful, fetching creature like Lydia should make you a tidy profit. You can sell her to a bawdy house [2] or, better still, you can let the front room in your house on Edward Street and have her lie on her back in one of the upper bedrooms."

For the first time since her elopement from Brighton, Lydia was conscious of a feeling of fear, being more familiar than she ought of military slang. It is not to be supposed that Lydia treated her elopement with Lt Wickham as anything but a great lark and an opportunity to triumph over her sisters. She had also believed herself to be in love, being unable to distinguish between feelings of mere infatuation from any real affection or genuine regard. The idea that a marriage might not take place had certainly occurred to her should her Papa or Uncle reach them before the actual ceremony and spoil the fun; but of Wickham's attachment, she had not a doubt. Be as that may, she was uncommonly ignorant of evil and tragedy and hence, heedless of sense and propriety; but she had never thought herself in any real danger.

"I should have made more if you had brought her a maiden," cried Mrs Younge. "You know that men will pay more for a woman untouched!"

"Come, now, Louisa! Why should I deny myself the pleasure of her inexperience and enthusiasm? But, having sampled her myself, I can assure you of her _superior_ quality! You must have noticed, as did I, that she is certainly a little Miss Van-Dyke [3], in addition to being very youthful- she is but fifteen. My word, had she not been the daughter of a gentleman, you could be sure of her becoming quite the little harlot!"

"But, that is what I do not understand, George! Why should Mr Darcy trouble himself with such a foolish girl and of such easy virtue, no matter who her father is? Why should he care if she is ruined?"

"Ah, but this is mere conjecture, Louisa. I believe that Darcy is rather in love with one of her sisters- a Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I have it on good authority that he has been observed admiring her. How can he, who is ate up with pride and so very mindful of his consequence and of his place in the world, hope to offer for a woman whose sister is ruined and has, consequently, ruined her whole family?"

"Is that your design in encouraging Lydia to elope with you- so that you may take your revenge against Mr Darcy? I know that you were none too happy when Mr Darcy foiled your plan to elope with Georgiana. "

"I do not deny that considerations of both fortune and revenge weighed upon me when I sought Georgiana. But this is not so for Lydia. I do declare that the only temptations that Lydia can possibly offer any man are her large dugs [4]! I have not a doubt that half the regiment at Brighton took turns circling her, hoping to catch sight of her kettledrums [5]! I should never have dreamt of eloping with Lydia and knocking her had she not presented such a slatternly picture"

"I do not believe a man like Mr Darcy could possibly admire a woman who is sister to such a girl!"

"Ah, but Miss Elizabeth is quite unlike her sister." This statement was a followed by a long pause and a sudden crash of ceramic shattering.

"Why is it that Darcy is so favoured by fortune?" Wickham was shouting. "By Jove, if I had half so much money as he, I would marry Miss Elizabeth myself! Now, _she_ is a woman any man would be proud to call wife! Such fine eyes! Such sweetness! Such wit! Such easy laughter! But, alas, no fortune!"

"I have no interest in Miss Elizabeth, George. I am interested in any proposition that Mr Darcy might make you, of which it is only right that I receive a share."

"So you shall" said Wickham, impatiently.

"And you agree, George, that if this does not happen, I am allowed to put Lydia to work as a cat [6] in a Drury Lane Vessel [7]?"

"Certainly, provided that her first earning is used to purchase my way to the New World. However, I am still of the opinion that your interests would be better served if you kept her at Edward Street and allowed gentlemen to occupy her there [8]. You would be paid handsomely for a decade, at the very least. Selling her to a bawdy house will only ensure a substantial sum for one time. But, of course, it is safer if you do sell her for you do not risk her running away."

"I shall think on it, George. I wish you good night."

"Good night, Louisa. I shall tell Lydia that I am going out."

With the exchange thus concluded, the principal parties to the transaction parted with feelings of mutual satisfaction. Not so the object. Lydia was overcome with shame quite greater than any emotion which she had experienced before. The thought of being sold and 'put to work' by pleasuring gentlemen while they paid her captor would have shaken a stouter heart than hers. Hearing Wickham- whom she believed loved her and whom she believed herself to love- conspire thusly broke her heart. But above fear and hurt, she was sharply aware of shame, of being regarded as cheap and disposable. In her mind, she could only hear the words: "I do declare that the only temptations that Lydia can possibly offer any man are her large dugs; I have not a doubt that half the regiment at Brighton took turns circling her, hoping to catch sight of her kettledrums; Why should Mr Darcy trouble himself with such a foolish girl and of such easy virtue, no matter who her father is? I should never have dreamt of eloping with Lydia and knocking her had she not presented such a slatternly picture; My word, had she not been the daughter of a gentleman, you could be sure of her becoming quite the little harlot!; but Miss Elizabeth is quite unlike her sister" No matter how she shook her head and covered her ears, she could not rid herself of the memory. It was etched into her very being.

She was resolved to throw herself on Mr Darcy's mercy on the following morning. She spent the night in acute discomfort, alternating fear, discomfort and shame by turns.

Notes:

[1] Knock- To copulate

[2] Bawdy House- A brothel

[3] Miss Van Dyke- A woman with large breasts

[4] & [5] 'Dugs' and 'Kettledrums'- A woman's breasts

[6] Cat- A prostitute

[7] Drury Lane Vessel- a brothel

[8] Occupy- To copulate


	2. Chapter II

_Lydia was Lydia still; untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy and fearless _

Chapter II

An uncomfortable night spent locked in the ha-ha on the pretext of violent illness is not conducive to one's health. As such, it was a very wretched Lydia who eagerly awaited the arrival of Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, a man she had formerly held in the greatest contempt for being the most staid and dull individual among her _wide_ circle of acquaintances. She was a creature to be pitied for it was a dreadful situation in which she found herself. She could not be seen as _blameless_ by any exercise of sympathy, except that which her mother would exercise for her, but her misfortune was greater than merited her actions.

Ten 'o' clock did not see Mr Darcy at the lodgings. It occurred to Lydia that there was no reason for her supposition that Mr Darcy would come that morning. He had merely indicated that Mr Wickham should hear from him 'before long.'* This recollection served to amplify her misery. That she should spend another day in the company of that villain Wickham was too horrible to contemplate. However, her options were highly limited. She had neither money nor any means with which to communicate with her friends, so carelessly sacrificed the previous evening before Mr Darcy.

Wickham's speech and behaviour, now understood to be false and concealing sinister motives, gave profound disgust and terror where it had previously only secured raptures of joy and thrill. It made her determined that she must leave the place as soon as could be managed. She had never been of a religious turn and had often disparaged her sister Mary for her engrossment with the scriptures. But, given her circumstances, she prayed as earnestly as prayer could be made. And her prayers were answered. Mr Darcy arrived at the lodgings at eleven 'o'clock. Lydia nearly wept at the sight of him.

Scarcely had Mr Darcy climbed the stairs did Lydia fling herself at him. He was surprised and disgusted with her familiarity; being, as he was, disapproving of her want of manners and the complete lack of propriety with which she conducted herself. But compassion succeeded disgust as she sobbed passionately, her face buried in his coat.

"I beg of you," she cried. "I beg of you to take me away from here!"

Mr Darcy was a man who had been forced by the unfortunate demise of his father to manage a vast estate from a young age. He did not waste time with purposeless questions. He directed her towards his waiting curricle [1] swiftly and left the area as fast as his horses could carry them. He deemed it unkind to quiz her at that time and resolved that she should be reunited with her Uncle and Aunt Gardiner at their home in Gracechurch Street before any explanation should be sought.

Lydia had never been a favourite with the Gardiners. That distinction lay with her sisters Jane and Elizabeth who were both in possession of both virtue and sense. Mr Gardiner, though cautious of _expressing_ an unflattering opinion of his sister's favourite, nevertheless agreed with his brother that Lydia was uncommonly silly, even discounting the mitigating factor of her age. His wife, being in possession of greater frankness had been known to opine, if only to her favourite nieces, that, in addition to sense, Lydia was sadly wanting in virtue and filial duty as well.

Regardless of any private misgivings they may have had about their niece, the Gardiners were people of sympathy and kindness. While truth and justice might demand that they place a fair share of blame on Lydia, compassion demanded that they treat her with patience even if they could not condone her actions.

As for Lydia, she favoured her Aunt and Uncle Phillips over her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. It was natural, for the Gardiners never treated her with the indulgence of the Phillips. But, she was nearly sick with relief as her eyes lighted upon her Aunt Gardiner's worried face. She threw herself into her aunt's arms and wept.

"Oh, Aunt! I was so frightened!"

Her aunt's calm manner and firm words soothed but it was still some time before Lydia's nerves could be pacified. As the weeping subsided, she was sent to bed with some milk and bread and instructions to go to sleep. Mr Gardiner was not at home and Darcy received his wife's expressions of gratitude with embarrassment. He was quick to assure Mrs Gardiner that he considered himself partially to blame for Lydia's elopement with Wickham. Darcy railed bitterly against his decision to keep Wickham's character in the dark which only served to protect him in his dealings with honest and innocent folk.

Uncle Gardiner joined them and listened with a mixture of gratitude and astonishment of Lydia's recovery and Darcy was forced to endure their gratitude once again. He gave them a synopsis of his activities in regard of discovering Wickham and Lydia and made them promise that they would not disclose his role in the affair, to their distress. They had no choice but to acquiesce for he was adamant in the face of their firmest protests.

"But what I fail to understand, Mr Gardiner, is what brought about Miss Lydia's change of heart. When I spoke to her the previous evening, she was determined to be wed to him and it appeared that nothing that I could say or do would induce her to leave him. I assure you, Sir, I should not have hesitated to employ any means at my disposal to separate them yesterday.

"I pray that you do not accuse us of ingratitude, Sir" cried Mr Gardiner, in horror. "We should not dream of suggesting that you were less than sincere in your service towards my wretched, unhappy niece. Indeed, you have done more than could be reasonably expected of any man."

Mr Darcy looked uncomfortable and disclaimed any such intention. He had merely assisted a woman younger than his own sister in a dreadful predicament.

"I am less concerned with what _has_ taken place than what is _to_ be done at this stage" said Mrs Gardiner. She was an intelligent woman, whose mind tended towards the practical as opposed to the ideal. "It is foolish to pray that Lydia's thoughtless deeds are not public property in Meryton. My sister's tongue is notorious for its laxity when faced with adversity. Now that a marriage is not to take place between Lydia and Wickham and it is well-known that they have lived together for nearly a week in shameful circumstances, we cannot suppose that anything but _ruin_ is to follow. I hope that I am not selfish but I am loath to see my other nieces- particularly Jane, Lizzy and Mary- punished for the absolute want of sense, propriety and morality in Lydia. Perhaps I am being unkind, but the fault is Lydia's alone and I, for one, shall not participate in seeing the consequences thus distributed."

Mr Gardiner seemed disconcerted with his wife's demand for justice when he was preoccupied in the relief of Lydia's return. Mr Darcy, however, was thoughtful. Mrs Gardiner noted with approval that he seemed to consider her words seriously.

"Madam," said he, "I cannot support a forced marriage between Miss Lydia and Wickham. 'Tis true that she behaved thoughtlessly and with little regard to propriety or indeed, of morality. But she is merely fifteen years old and was, I suspect, entirely uncomprehending of the danger she found herself in. You must forgive me if I speak frankly: the fault lies with her parents. But, allocation of blame is a purposeless endeavour. She cannot simply be returned to her home. The scandal is enough to wreck her family forever. There is great justice in what you say, Madam. Her sisters cannot be forced to endure the consequences of her indiscretion."

"What do you suggest, Mr Darcy?" asked Mrs Gardiner. She could not regard his honesty and good intentions as interference for it was his efforts which prevented the situation from escalating to the point of becoming irredeemable. Additionally, she had a high opinion of his good sense and judgment and, if her speculation was correct, his efforts reflected a partiality for her beloved Lizzy. He was not likely to offer advice which would pain her or cause hardship towards her family.

"I think that it is wiser to keep Lydia here and send for Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, for the time being." He hesitated. "I have no wish to disparage Mr and Mrs Bennet but it is my opinion that her sisters are more likely to be of real use to her than any body else. If I should be allowed a day or so- a week, at most- I think that I could formulate a solution."

Mrs Gardiner was both pained and pleased with his response. That he should recommend Elizabeth was natural, given his feelings towards her; but his inclusion of Jane as well indicated that he was well-versed in assessing character. He was a man of fortune, taste, manners, education and wisdom and his commendation of her nieces could only be viewed as a great compliment. But she could not help but be pained at his accurate judgment of her sister and brother-in-law. Mr Bennet's love for indolence made him unreliable in a crises and no one could accurately predict his response to Lydia's recovery. It was entirely conceivable that he would simply speak sarcastically to Lydia and send her away to an affordable seminary until he could be bothered to consider her future and those of his other daughters. Mrs Bennet would be worse still. She would demand that Wickham do his duty by her daughter and lay the blame for the elopement squarely on his shoulders.

Mrs Gardiner was determined. Perhaps, she was exceeding the limits of her standing as an aunt but Mr and Mrs Bennet could not be trusted with Lydia. Had they been more mindful of their duty as parents, she would not have behaved in such a scandalous manner. As such, she was unwilling to let her dear Jane and Elizabeth suffer when their conduct was faultless. To think of them cut by respectable society and having to live their lives as spinsters due to the actions of a selfish, spoilt girl who cared for nothing apart from her own amusement was beyond endurance.

Furthermore, Mrs Gardiner's quick intelligence and good sense saw some potential in the circumstances, dreadful as they were. She had known Lydia when she had been a little child. If she was unmindful of the consequences of her actions, it was because her own pleasure was foremost on her mind, taking precedence over even her own self-interest and well-being. She had received nothing but encouragement in this throughout her entire life from both her mother's active support and father's silence, which amounted to tacit consent. She was not an intelligent girl. Indeed, she preferred immediate gratification over security. She had a way of being insensible to things which she did not wish to acknowledge. Mere chastisement or censure, regardless of the source, would be insufficient to effect any improvement.

However, something had taken place between the time Mr Darcy spoke to her the previous evening and this morning. Lydia had transformed from being a stubborn girl bent upon having her own way to that pathetic weeping creature which had flung herself into her Aunt's arms and cried the tears of the broken-hearted. Now that her perpetual self-assurance had been penetrated, though they might regret the cause, there was opportunity for reformation. Thus, Mrs Gardiner could not help but heartily approve of the scheme to have both Elizabeth and Jane brought to Gracechurch Street.

Mr Darcy departed. Mrs Gardiner instructed her husband to take the children to her brother's home in Lambton. She sent with her brother a short missive, begging for her brother's indulgence as a crises had arisen. She proceeded to write to Mr Bennet and requested the presence of Jane and Elizabeth for fortnight. She also addressed a note to her nieces, repeating her invitation. Concealment and half-truths were deemed necessary; had Mrs Bennet an inkling of Lydia's whereabouts she would have flown to London herself.

It seemed that Mr Bennet had lapsed into his former indolent ways for a few days later saw Jane and Lizzy in London. They embraced their aunt with affection and kissed her. Mrs Gardiner could not but feel guilty at her deception: both sisters looked as though they had slept ill since she saw them last. Mrs Gardiner consoled herself with the thought that it had been necessary. She decided to relieve their suffering immediately and related Lydia's recovery, omitting to describe Mr Darcy's role in the events. The amazement of the sisters equalled only their relief. No sooner did they hear the news did they assault her with questions and queries.

"My dear Aunt! How can this be that we were not informed of Lydia's return? My mother is very ill and we must relay this good news to her immediately!"

"Wait, Jane! I suspect that the story is yet incomplete. It is too much to hope that the matter is at an end. You said it yourself- though we might consider a match between the two imprudent, we must hope that a wedding has indeed taken place. Have we been brought, Aunt, to assist with the wedding?"

Her Aunt responded. "You are too intelligent, Lizzy, to suppose that this is the real purpose behind my summons. Your Uncle and I would have conducted the ceremony and shared the news of your sister's marriage with the greatest speed, had the affair been so simple. I maintain that the ceremony is the simplest part of a marriage. And we would not for the world dream of exposing any of you girls to Wickham's presence unless absolutely necessary."

Jane was distressed. She alone had maintained the possibility of Wickham's goodness. She was generous and selfless; her immediate concern was for her sister's well-being and she did not bear Lydia any malice for having behaved in a manner which ruined her own prospects. Elizabeth, though concerned, was also angry at Lydia for her thoughtless disregard for her family. She was astute enough to realise that the matter could not be closed.

Mrs Gardiner had more intelligence to offer. "I confess myself to be disturbed. Since Lydia's return, she has not been herself. She keeps to her room. She does not eat. Her manner is alarmingly and uncharacteristically subdued."

The possibility that Lydia might be subdued filled both sisters with alarm. "Did Lydia say what altered her decision?" enquired Jane.

Mrs Gardiner hesitated. She could not reveal what Lydia had told her without disclosing Mr Darcy's role. In the end, she decided that no improvement of the situation could be effected without putting the two sisters in possession of all the facts. That Mr Darcy should be the man to whom their whole family is indebted caused Jane to exclaim and Elizabeth to colour.

"Lydia told me that Mr Darcy sought her at the lodgings Mr Wickham had taken for them at – Street one evening. He attempted to convince her to quit her present disgraceful circumstances and return to the protection of her friends as soon as they could be prevailed upon to receive her and even went so far as to offer his own assistance. But Lydia refused. Mr Darcy then demanded to speak with Mr Wickham. Lydia decided to listen to the conversation from an adjoining empty room. She wanted to hear, I think, Mr Wickham profess his love for her before Mr Darcy and it seems she heard quite the opposite."

"Poor Lydia!" cried Jane.

"But I suspect that that is not all, Jane. You know Lydia as well as I. To realise that she had been duped would have produced no feeling but that of anger. She would have stoutly demanded to return here and would have spent days lamenting to any one who would listen about she has been used very ill and playing the role of the injured victim, without any sense of shame at the grief _she_ has caused and without any resolution at behaving better in the future."

Miss Bennet was pained to think of Lydia's behaviour as being so very wicked and was inclined to believe that her Aunt was exaggerating due to the worry produced by the uncertainty of the past few days. But even she was forced to acknowledge that fits of anger and claims of injury were characteristic of Lydia. Elizabeth, less likely than her sister to believe good of everyone, understood her aunt's suspicions.

"Do you believe that something else has taken place which Lydia does not wish to reveal to us?"

"I do, Lizzy. And I believe that it is imperative for Lydia's own well-being that we discover it. We cannot hope to escape this ordeal unscathed; and unless Lydia is made to see the error of her ways and is willing to face the consequences of her actions, there is no reason to hope that any steps taken in regard to her disgrace would lead to anything but greater disaster"

Good sense demanded agreement with the views thus expressed. Jane and Elizabeth asked to be taken to Lydia immediately, each resolving to comfort and refrain from reminding Lydia of her own blame.

Upon entering Lydia's room, her sisters were shocked and appalled. The figure before them looked like Lydia and had a voice like Lydia but a single glance was enough to convince that she was not the same girl who had left for Brighton some three months prior. Grief, horror and incredulity warred in the minds of both Jane and Elizabeth; the latter affecting Elizabeth more keenly for she had believed reports of Lydia's transformation to be partly a charade.

The sight of Jane's sweet countenance was enough to produce a fresh bout of tears in Lydia. She ran and embraced her sister, weeping copiously. Miss Bennet's soft heart ached. She began to weep herself. She enclosed Lydia in a warm embrace and allowed her to rest her face against her breast. As for Lydia, the sound of Jane's heartbeat produced greater comfort than she had experienced since her departure from the lodgings.

Whereas Lydia's meeting with Jane might have been joyous for Lydia, she could not face Elizabeth with any measure of equanimity. She could not help but harbour resentment against her sister Lizzy for being spoken of with such evident admiration by her former _beau_. Wickham had said that if had had half so much money as Mr Darcy, he would marry Lizzy himself. Given his subsequent comments about herself, she could not help but feel the remark to be an insult against her rather than a compliment to her sister. Her feelings may be unjust but they were natural.

In addition to Mr Wickham, it appeared that Lizzy had secured Mr Darcy's regard as well. This possibility had made Lydia uncomfortable: she had always expected Jane and herself to make the most spectacular matches. Their Mama had always praised Jane's beauty and Lydia's good-humour. She had considered Mary and Kitty to be subordinate to her for Mary was far too plain and Kitty was not as fun as she was; but Lizzy she had always completely disregarded. Lizzy was too impertinent and her Mama had always lamented Lizzy's quick wit and sharp tongue. "No man will have you, Lizzy, even if you were twice as handsome as Jane, if you do not control your tongue." Longbourn had heard several variations of this statement and Lydia had always understood it to be the truth. No man wanted a wife more intelligent than himself.

It seemed that Lydia had been wrong about yet another thing. She was in a pitiable state: her unfailing good-humour and confidence in herself had deserted her. Whenever she attempted to recover it, she despaired worse than before. She was no longer happy, no longer infinitely pleased with herself. In one single conversation, Wickham had made her feel that everything that she had considered good in herself made her less than worthless. She was made to feel that she was no better than livestock. She could not even _look_ at herself in the looking-glass without remembering the comments he had made regarding her person. She longed for home.

Lydia was distressed when she was made to understand that she could not return home. In vain did she protest and cry: her aunt and sisters were immovable. She had eloped with Mr Wickham and had lived with him outside of wedlock; should she return unmarried, they would all be ruined. They did not emphasise her culpability but they did not need to. Lydia was outraged! They were so selfish. They cared nothing for her and were concerned only with their own prospects. She demanded to write to her Mama. She was gently reminded that it was her father that determined who was to be admitted into his home. Thus, her day was spent in strife and her night in tears, yet again.

**A/N: *This chapter is dedicated to ****Laina Lee.**

**First of all, I am overwhelmed with the response that I have received for this story! I want to thank everyone who has followed the story, added it to their Favourites and, most of all, reviewed! **

**Second, I want to address a concern raised by Mary (Guest) that the language used in the previous chapter was more suited to an 'M' story. The profanities used in the previous chapter were the mildest version possible and was only used for establishing context which was necessary for the story-line and will not be repeated in any subsequent chapters. **


	3. Chapter III

_Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early age._

Chapter III

As the hours passed, the uneasiness of the two eldest Bennet sisters grew. Lydia seldom spoke, except to beg to be returned home to Longbourn and in _this_ they could not oblige her. To plead on Lydia's behalf to their father was out of the question. To learn that his daughter was not yet married to the man with whom she had lived in sin for nearly a week; and was likely to remain so would try the virtue of _both_ their parents, but their father's present mood almost ensured that Lydia be cast out in the manner suggested by Mr Collins in his officious letter. The two sisters were troubled, accustomed as they were, to Lydia's high spirits. Also, they were uncomfortable with having to keep her present situation in the dark from their family for Kitty was wretched indeed and their Mama, sadly ill.

Mrs Gardiner was reassuring. "I am aware, Jane, Lizzy, that I was not entirely correct in my representations to your father in my letter. But though my _means_ were questionable, you can be sure that my _motives_ were not so. I wished for Lydia to have the comfort which can be had only from an intimate family member but I deemed it unwise to involve your mother. As much as I respect her, she would only encourage Lydia in thinking that she had been used ill. But I hope that she has not been inconvenienced beyond what was necessary."

"Indeed, no, ma'am," Jane assured her. "She knows not who tends to her. Mary and Kitty are admirably in their care towards her. Mary is particularly diligent. But, I wish to relay news of a joyous nature to her soon. I have not a doubt that news of Lydia's safe return would heal her faster than the best of ministrations. But I do comprehend the reasons that such information cannot be shared with her at this juncture."

Elizabeth agreed with her sister in essence but was unconvinced of the particulars. It was her estimation that her mother's worry and illness was not feigned, but she was also certain that it was exaggerated. She had been present when her aunt's missive had arrived and was sure that it had occurred to her mother that they could ill afford to offend the Gardiners. She could not agree with Jane that Lydia's safe return would ensure their mother's recovery: only news of her matrimony could accomplish that. An additional source of worry for the sisters and their aunt was Lydia decrease in appetite. Lydia had always been a hearty feeder, never content with moderation in her meals. Since her recovery, she had barely eaten to support herself. Her blossoming complexion had vanished. She was unusually reticent. And she was still unwed.

Lydia had shared the particulars of all three conversations with Jane after Elizabeth had retired to bed, pained at Lydia's reception of her. Miss Bennet's feelings were so great as to almost transcend Lydia's own. She could not approve of the impudence which had made Lydia carelessly decline Mr Darcy's counsel and assistance, but this disapprobation was soon lost in all subsequent feelings. She was shocked to learn that Wickham was a gamester and was distressed that he could dally with the wives of other officers. But these feelings did not eclipse concern for her sister. Jane could comprehend perfectly Lydia's pain of being denounced by her lover for her heart was exceptionally sympathetic and she _herself_ had been mistaken in love. But, the conversation that had taken place between Mr Wickham and Mrs Younge and overheard, caused her to experience all the horror and mortification that such a conversation is likely to produce. It must be mentioned that Lydia was careful to avoid mention of Elizabeth and the unfavourable comparison Wickham drew between the two sisters.

She protested that Lydia might have been mistaken. Lydia replied, in a subdued voice, that it could not be so. The proposal was advanced twice and was acquiesced twice. She repeated the words as she had remembered them, angry that her sister would chuse _then_ to suggest that Mr Wickham could not be quite as bad as _that_. Lydia was destined to disappointment in her perverse desire to shock her sister, for Jane was entirely ignorant of military cant.

"He remarked that the only temptation that I could offer any man were my large –." Here she was obliged to indicate her bosom. "He would certainly know," she added, her feelings of bitterness and shame overcoming any tendency she may have otherwise have had towards discretion, at least before her two eldest sisters. Jane, though weeping copiously and almost fainting from her feelings, could not neglect to ask Lydia what she meant by _that_.

Lydia confessed, shamefaced and hesitating, that she was not a maiden. She was fortunate in that it was Jane who heard this. Miss Bennet was excessively shocked and she gave Lydia the feelings which would have attended herself, had she been the culprit. However, Jane could also admit to feelings of relief, though she would not speak of it to Lydia. Before her sojourn to Brighton, Lydia would have made the admission triumphantly or accompanied by simpering. That she had the grace to blush made Miss Bennet hopeful. Unlike Elizabeth and their Aunt Gardiner, Jane had not thought Lydia lacking in virtue, however high-spirited she was.

"Swear, Jane!" said Lydia, fiercely. "Swear that you shall not repeat this to anyone!"

But Miss Bennet refused to make the promise. "I shall not, of course, spread this _irresponsibly_, Lydia. But I cannot keep it in the dark, especially with regards to any steps our Aunt and Uncle may take in respect of your future which _may_ demand that I cannot, in good conscience, keep silence. I can, however, promise you that I shall tell only Lizzy for the time being."

Lydia was mortified. That Elizabeth should learn of her indiscretion was too much to bear! Unlike Jane, Elizabeth did not have that gift of boundless compassion and unblemished sympathy. She would not hesitate to remind and scold Lydia at every turn, particularly when Lydia did not wish to behave as Elizabeth thought she should. And Lydia's feelings towards Elizabeth at present could scarcely be described as warm or cordial. Lydia resented everybody at this stage: in addition to being told that she could not go home to her Mama's embrace, her private confidences were being made public by her _own_ sister. She began to feel bitter towards even Jane, not being in possession of the wisdom which could have made her see that Jane could not make promises rashly, especially with regards to a delicate situation of which she was not in power to correct. She received Jane's wishes for her to have a good night ungraciously.

Jane did not wish to betray Lydia's confidence to Lizzy for sport, but she readily forgave Lydia's supposition that this was her intention. Jane was modest and, though in possession of good sense, was aware that her mind was not as quick as Lizzy's. She was excessively sorry to rouse her sister from her sleep but feared that the tumult in her own mind would give her no rest and render her useless.

Elizabeth was filled with compassion and grief but her pity was tempered with anger. "Foolish girl! Did she think that it was all a great joke? Oh, is there no hope for her, Jane? What will happen to her? It is too much to expect that a respectable man will have her now!"

Jane was less despairing. "But, Lizzy, consider! She blushes and is ashamed. Surely, we can hope that her character has improved?"

"It will be of no use if she becomes as virtuous as a sister of chastity _now_," said her sister, fretfully. "To think that she is aware of the secrets of the marriage bed before she is wed! And she has learnt it all from that villain! But she cannot marry him and no other man will have her. Yet she cannot remain unwed for she is ruined otherwise! He will not take her without a substantial inducement and another man will take her not at all. And what will happen when that fortune is spent, should Wickham? Will he follow his original plans? 'Tis all too horrible to contemplate!"

Jane and Elizabeth did not sleep that night and spent those long hours comforting each other. As a result, they appeared to break their fast looking tired and ill themselves. Their Aunt Gardiner was angry and did not scruple to say so. "How do you hope to be of service to your sister if you were to take ill yourselves?" She would have said more but was interrupted by the arrival of Mr Darcy.

Mr Darcy was embarrassed at seeing Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. His mortification increased when he realised that they were not surprised or questioning of his presence. On the contrary, they were directing expressions of profound gratitude towards him. He was unhappy. To be the recipient of gratitude when he expected censure and prayed for love! Could anything be more painful? But, he recalled that it was _he_ who opined that Miss Lydia would benefit from the presence of her sisters, who could not be kept in the dark regarding his involvement. If it was not Mrs Gardiner, Miss Lydia herself would reveal him. He resolved to accept their knowledge, provided that it would not spread any farther.

He was fortunate in that Mr Gardiner's arrival preceded his own by a mere half-hour. Mr Gardiner wished to confer with Mr Darcy privately but Mr Darcy was of the opinion that the presence of the women-folk could not be neglected: it may be that their powers of persuasion on which the successful execution of his plan depended on. In the end, it was resolved that Lydia's attendance was not desirable. Mr Darcy proceeded with informing the party present of intelligence gathered thus far.

"Wickham has absconded," said he, grimly. He was met with cries of dismay. "His rooms are stripped of everything of value. Even your sister's things are missing. Presumably, has sold them. His gaming debts are enormous and he is facing a charge of desertion. It is unlikely that he has left the country but it is possible. However, I do not see the purpose of searching for him, unless it is to deliver him to the army. A marriage between him and your sister is insupportable!"

His audience was silent. They agreed with his logic but, with the exception of Elizabeth, were in despair regarding Lydia's future. Elizabeth suspected that Mr Darcy had a solution to their difficulty. But, even she was uneasy should Lydia herself be difficult.

"As soon as it became clear that Mr Wickham was absconding and that his acquaintances were unaware of his whereabouts, I proceeded to making enquiries so as to find a man who would be willing to take Miss Lydia for a wife." He paused. "If I have acted with conceit and excessive interference, I must ask you to be frank with me. I shall proceed with this no further if that is your wish." They hastened to assure him of their consent. Contrary to being offended, they were most grateful. They admitted that they could do no better themselves. Mr Darcy hesitated only slightly before continuing.

"I learnt of one individual: a Mr Rand-Brown. He is, at present, reading law at Lincoln's Inn, under the tutelage of Sir William Burgess, who is a personal and intimate friend of mine. I have told him of the circumstances and he is amenable to marrying Lydia as soon as can be arranged. Will Miss Lydia be receptive to his suit?"

"I am afraid, Sir, that Lydia shall have little choice in the matter" replied Mr Gardiner.

Jane and Mrs Gardiner hurried to Lydia and Elizabeth hastened to write to Longbourn. She was loath to leave Mr Darcy and her Uncle to their private conversation for it seemed that her Uncle would then ask for particulars regarding Mr Darcy's promises to this Mr Rand-Brown. Elizabeth was not so innocent as to believe that any man would simply _agree_ to marry a fallen woman without receiving some form of compensation for his troubles.

"Mr Darcy, you must understand that I cannot proceed with this plan in good faith before learning of the promises that you have entered into on our behalf during the negotiations" said Mr Gardiner.

Mr Darcy was embarrassed. "I assure you, Sir, that they were not unduly heavy."

"Nevertheless, Sir, I must insist on knowing."

"Very well; I have agreed to use my connexions to ensure that he will be called to the bar at the earliest. He could scarcely have hoped for such an immediate elevation, give his present state of relative poverty. He is, I believe, an orphan and has no near living relatives anywhere. I have also promised to settle a sum on ten thousand pounds on him immediately on his marriage to your niece, as her dowry."

A stunned silence greeted him. "Ten thousand pounds!" Mr Gardiner was amazed. "Sir, you take too much upon yourself! Mr Bennet and I- we cannot repay you."

"I pray of you, Sir, do not shame me by speaking of repayment" cried Mr Darcy. "I am party to blame for this elopement and I am not unwilling to bear the responsibility of it!"

Mr Gardiner was reluctant to leave the subject but he deemed it imprudent to continue. He _suspected_ that Mr Darcy had formed a romantic attachment towards his niece Elizabeth and were it so, he demonstrated his regard admirably, but Mr Gardiner did not wish to be precipitate. Nor could he be sure of Elizabeth's regard. He was of the opinion that they would suit admirably and could not scorn Mr Darcy's character or material wealth.

Mr Darcy spoke yet again. His manner was marked with some hesitation and shame. "Mr Gardiner, I must tell you that Mr Rand-Brown advanced but one condition for this marriage, of which he informed me during our negotiations. I hesitated to speak before the ladies, particularly Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, who, being unmarried cannot know of certain things. He says that he will marry Miss Lydia only on the condition that she is not with child." He seemed ashamed of repeating this; his head was bowed and his complexion red. Mr Gardiner was less given to feelings of embarrassment than of wrath on hearing the condition. That Lydia should make herself the subject of such vulgar and ill-natured speculation and to have her character questioned by a man who had not so much as laid eyes on her! But, vexation soon gave way to resignation- he would ask his wife to broach the subject with Lydia as soon as could be managed.

"I must request you to dine with me tonight at Darcy House, Sir. The gentleman in question shall also be in attendance." Mr Gardiner agreed readily with the scheme. Mr Darcy rose to leave but was forestalled by Elizabeth, who had returned. She requested Mr Darcy partake in some breakfast with them. He made an attempt to decline but was overpowered.

Mrs Gardiner kept an excellent table. Whereas the number of dishes was limited, the quality of each was decidedly superior. Mr Gardiner was tired from his arduous journey and spoke little. Jane and Mrs Gardiner were engaged in pacifying Lydia and had yet to return, leaving Elizabeth and Mr Darcy to converse with each other.

Elizabeth was blushing and in distress. After several false starts, she began by enquiring about his sister Georgiana. He answered her with civility, if not with perfect composure. The countenance of each was suffused with supressed emotion. Eventually, Elizabeth could keep silent no longer regarding his assistance with reference to the unfortunate affair with her sister.

"Mr Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding yours. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it." Thus, Mr Darcy was forced to endure gratitude for the third time that week. As with Mr and Mrs Gardiner, Mr Darcy disclaimed great virtue and reiterated that he only did as he saw was his duty.

Elizabeth was curious about Mr Rand-Brown, who was soon to become a brother to her. Her curiosity sprung from sisterly concern and she did not neglect to inquire minutely regarding him. She was informed that he was an orphan with no living relatives and that he was reading law under a modestly successful barrister at Lincoln's Inn. Elizabeth nearly wept with relief. This was better than they could have possibly expected, given the circumstances. Although Mr Darcy was not explicit, Elizabeth could deduce that he was not in possession of personal wealth or, indeed, of any independent means. But, she was hopeful. A lawyer could, at least, earn a comfortable fortune at some later date. She pressed for details regarding his character and manners.

Mr Darcy assured her on both counts. His manners, if not those of the fashionable world, were perfectly polite and well-bred. His character was vouchsafed by Sir William- the barrister under whose tutelage Mr Rand-Brown was studying law- who was pleased with his brilliance, hard-work, diligence and his devotion towards his work. But, Mr Darcy was uneasy with regards to one aspect of him: he was not a handsome man.

Elizabeth was uneasy as well. Lydia was known for her unkindness towards people who were unhandsome. Elizabeth could recall vividly an incident with a waiter at an inn. Jane and she had informed him that he need not stay, because they feared that Lydia would speak imprudently. Lydia had said that she was glad that he was gone, though it did not particularly signify, because he was an ugly fellow and that he had a long chin. Elizabeth also feared that Lydia would not take kindly to being forced to marry an unhandsome man for she did not appreciate her own precarious position. It would fall on their aunt, Jane and herself to convince her that she could not refuse.

Elizabeth was distracted as she saw Mr Darcy out. Mr Darcy was no longer the chief concern of her mind. She was lost in contemplation of Lydia's future. Mr Darcy had arranged an alternative for her which was better than tolerable: it was fortuitous. But Lydia had not the sense to appreciate it as such. Lydia could not understand it as a means of making amends: she would only regard the match as punishment. In desperation, Elizabeth sought out Jane.

Miss Bennet was unable to ease her sister's troubled mind. Lydia, on being informed of the arrangements for her future, has not ceased to wail this past half-hour. "I am afraid, Lizzy, that our Aunt Gardiner has been very harsh with Lydia. She did not attempt to reason with her nor did she remind her that it was her own folly. She merely said that, if Lydia refused this match, she could not remain with them. She pointed out that they had their own children, whose well-being was their first concern and they could not host her indefinitely. Mama may wish for Lydia's return but you understand Papa better than I; he would not countenance Lydia's return when she is yet unmarried. Though I sympathise with Lydia, I cannot help but appreciate Papa's reasons. You and I, being the eldest, may accept our suffering philosophically but Kitty and Mary! We cannot make sport of their future to accommodate Lydia's youthful wishes, howsoever we may wish."

"I agree, Jane. But, has Lydia agreed? If she has not, is there any hope of persuading her?"

Jane looked apologetic. "She was having a fit of the vapours, much like Mama. I was concerned at her hysteria and feared that she may take ill. But her behaviour ceased with her realisation that our aunt remained unmoved. I am sorry to think poorly of my own sister, but I was greatly shocked at her pretence. She agreed to marry this man but has been weeping since then."

Elizabeth was disgusted. Was it not enough that Lydia had ruined herself and had nearly ruined them all? Must she scorn every grace and every opportunity to redeem herself in the eyes of the world? They all owed a debt of gratitude to Mr Darcy; Lydia's, greater than all of them. Could she use this circumstance to better her own situation or was she determined upon her own destruction and that of the man who was to become her husband? Jane was propitious but Elizabeth could not be so sanguine.

"We can only pray that this gentleman is kind and eventually develops some regard for her. I dare not suppose that love and affection are possible. How can a man respect a woman whose mind and character he holds in contempt? How can a woman tolerate being held to scorn and ridicule at every turn? Oh, I have never been more exasperated with my mother and my father! That we should not be accomplished, in the conventional sense of the term, does not injure us. But, that our sisters are lacking in manners befitting their station as daughters of a gentleman and are so wholly dead to decorum, propriety and, indeed, _morality_ has devastated us on more occasions than I care to recall."

Jane was distressed. "Lizzy, you are taking too fatal a view of circumstances which, though they may not suit _you_, are not without their merits. Recall, dearest, your chagrin at Charlotte's acceptance of Mr Collins. You tried to convince me that happiness for them was improbable. Yet, on your return from Hunsford, you assured me that Charlotte was managing very well indeed."

Elizabeth was quick to reply. "I do own, Jane, that I was critical of Charlotte's decision to marry our cousin. Her motives, it seemed to me, were mercenary. Mr Collins himself admitted that _his_ reason for marrying was more to oblige his patroness than for love: he proposed to her scarcely a se'nnight after her proposed to me. _That_ is not an auspicious foundation for a marriage. Charlotte is happy, certainly; but it is the happiness which comes from having her own home rather than that which is derived from her spouse. But, that is not of import for _us_. Jane, Charlotte possesses more than her fair share of intelligence and good sense whereas her husband is uncommonly ridiculous. She can manage him very well, as I had opportunity to witness! But Lydia is precisely the opposite of Charlotte. She cannot even keep a civil tongue in her head at all times. If she is popular, it is because she is good-humoured and people excuse her on account of her youth. But, what is pardonable and even indulged at sixteen is quite intolerable at twenty. Can we hope that her husband, who is clearly _ambitious_, will be tolerant of her silliness and of her vulgar behaviour; especially, if it stands in the way of his own advancement? No, Jane. I fear for Lydia."

Miss Bennet soothed. It seemed to her that they were being hasty in their conjectures. Intelligence regarding their future brother was obtained second-hand from Mr Darcy and though she had a high opinion of him, they could be prejudiced either in favour or against Mr Rand-Brown until they had met him themselves. But, Elizabeth remained unconvinced and awaited her uncle's return from dinner eagerly.


	4. Chapter IV

_"Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, we may draw from it this useful lesson; that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable—that one false step involves her in endless ruin—that her reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful,—and that she cannot be too much guarded in her behaviour towards the undeserving of the other sex."_

Chapter IV

Mr Gardiner presented himself at Darcy House at the appointed hour. He was distinctly uncomfortable and wished the evening at an end as soon as could be possible. He saw it as his duty to become acquainted with his niece's fiancé, but could derive no pleasure at the prospect. He could not regard a man willing to enter into matrimony in exchange for money and an elevated position with respect, his own marriage having been a result of mutual affection, and yet he knew that his behaviour must demonstrate cordiality and, howsoever distasteful he may find it, he must convey gratitude without seeming to.

Mr Gardiner was not often given to ill temper. He was a pacific individual and took considerable pains to avoid strife. On this occasion, he permitted himself the indulgence of belligerence. He was well aware that sisters were both of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper; but one would imagine that a _gentleman_ of wit, intelligence and education would impart knowledge of how to conduct oneself to his daughters; particularly when his daughters had little but their charms to recommend them. He had been pleased at the time when Fanny and Mr Bennet had announced their decision to marry. To be married to the landed gentry was good fortune indeed but that had not weighed with him as much as the fact that his sister Fanny would be married to a man of considerable education, which could only serve to refine and improve his sister. He was deeply pained when he came to understand that he could not be more mistaken and that the difference in their respective stations merely exacerbated the dissatisfaction of each. Mrs Bennet was ill prepared to be the wife of a gentleman and Mr Bennet was oftentimes embarrassed by his wife's ill-breeding. It was not many years before Mrs Bennet became an object of scorn and a whetting stone for her husband's wit.

Obligations towards his family made it impossible that he neglect to do his duty by Lydia. He was aware that his introduction to Lydia's future husband was but a formality; should the man reveal himself to be the most insufferable that ever lived, they could not escape the marriage. Lydia may very well never see Longbourn again. However, her marriage to this lawyer would at least ensure that her sisters would be able to marry themselves in the future. Mr Gardiner was most determined that the marriage should take place within the next few days. He had no wish to be cruel and it would give him no pleasure to turn his niece away from his home but he could not compromise of the future of his own children by having a fallen woman in his home.

Mr Gardiner was not so preoccupied with his thoughts that he was unable to give his full attention to the splendour of Mr Darcy's town house. He was conscious only of appreciation for Darcy House could only be described as being exceedingly tasteful; without excessive opulence or even a breath of ostentation, the visitor was left with the unmistakeable impression of considerable wealth. It took skill to convey richness without the suggestion of bad taste. As with Pemberley, it served to indicate that its master was a man of splendid taste.

He was conducted to the parlour. Mr Darcy greeted him as warmly as could be expected in the circumstances. Mr Gardiner found himself hoping, as he done many times in the hours past, that marriage between Mr Darcy and Lizzy would take place in the near future. But, he did not dwell on the possibility and asked, instead, to be introduced to Mr Rand-Brown who, it seemed, had not arrived yet. He was correct in this surmise, for Mr Rand-Brown's arrival succeeded his by a quarter of an hour. As Mr Gardiner's eyes alighted upon the new visitor, he was conscious of a feeling of mixed incredulity and distress.

Mr Darcy had tactfully described him as being unhandsome, but single glance was enough to reveal that this description spoke more for Mr Darcy's kindness than it did for his honesty. Mr Rand-Brown was decidedly _ugly_. It seemed that an unfortunate encounter with a sharp object had deprived the gentleman of his right eye and had left a prominent scar. His face was severely pock-marked and he seemed to have twice as many teeth as he needed. Mr Gardiner despaired. He recalled many instances wherein Lydia had directed unkind remarks towards her sisters regarding their appearance. Mary, of course, had heard the worst; but Kitty was not exempt, especially when Lydia had wanted something of Kitty's. To think of Lydia being wed to a man so ill-favoured by nature was distressing. He ceased to pity Lydia and could only direct his compassion towards her fiancé instead. Unless Lydia stoutly refused to marry him, _he_ faced a possible future filled with abuse and degrading remarks regarding his appearance.

It was with some difficulty that Mr Gardiner recollected himself. Mr Darcy made the introductions and both men acknowledged it with civility. Dinner was an uncomfortable affair. Mr Gardiner received the impression that Mr Rand-Brown's feelings were only what could be expected of one party to a patched-up marriage. While it was not wise to draw inferences of a man's character after just one meeting, Mr Gardiner nevertheless felt that it was safe to assume that the gentleman was, though ambitious in his profession, not without delicacy of feeling. The young gentleman's powers of conversation were markedly superior; his opinion expressed with both sense and caution and he shewed great respect to his listener. Had Mr Gardiner permitted himself to enjoy the evening, he would have taken great pleasure in conversing with Mr Rand-Brown.

As dinner drew to a close, the three gentlemen retired to port and herein made their plans for the upcoming nuptials. It was decided that not a day should be lost and the ceremony was fixed for the next day at St. Clement's Church because the Gardiners could not conduct a hasty marriage at their own Church without becoming the subject of malicious gossip. Mr Darcy assured his guests of his presence at the appointed hour. Mr Rand-Brown and Mr Gardiner were only too relieved that the evening was at an end. They took leave of Mr Darcy and one another with absurd formality and each departed, considerably lighter than when they arrived.

Mr Gardiner returned home to the anxiety of his wife and two nieces, Lydia having refused to leave her room since the morning. Before they could assault him with their impatience, he reassured them that the marriage would take place on the next morning at St Clement's Church and none but the bride-groom, Mr Darcy, the clergyman and themselves would be present. He hesitated before speaking of his impressions of Mr Rand-Brown but ultimately revealed his misgivings.

Jane and Elizabeth were distressed. They too could recall Lydia's various cruelties throughout the years. Lydia marrying a sensible and ill-looking gentleman could not be conceived. The two sisters had been worried that Lydia would not be married at all. However, they now began to feel apprehensive about the future. They could easily envision Lydia declaring her refusal to marry before the clergyman the next day; worse still, they could imagine her deserting her husband at some later date and returning to Longbourn, demanding that she be taken care of. The possibilities were infinite.

The problem which confronted them at present was convincing Lydia that she had no alternative. It was a painful path before them. Mr and Mrs Gardiner would be forced to reiterate that they could not have her in their home, should she refuse to marry the man that had been chosen for her. They could not afford it. Also, they could not injure their own standing in society and harm Mr Gardiner's business goodwill by seeming to consort with a fallen woman. Jane and Elizabeth would have to repeat that could not hope to prevail upon their father to receive her home unwed. It was not only that the marriage prospects of all sisters would be ruined; they could not even aspire to seek positions as companions or governesses because no respectable family would employ them. Furthermore, they did not have the means to find her a husband of _her_ liking nor could they seclude her to a cottage and hire a companion for her, as would be done had they been in possession of greater wealth.

All this and more was expounded to Lydia, who was not yet asleep or likely to be. She wept bitterly. Jane attempted to reassure her. Her future husband was, by all accounts, extremely clever and there seemed every possibility that he would amass a respectable fortune in the future. Elizabeth, understanding her sister's character more accurately than Jane, assured Lydia that this was the best alternative: there would still be society, parties and balls to attend. Any other alternative would mean that she would not be invited anywhere. Their aunt and uncle stood by in silent support of their two beloved nieces, as distasteful as they found the whole conversation.

Lydia was inconsolable. She had never anticipated that an elopement would have such adverse effects. It was all meant to be good fun! Through tears and gurgles, she attempt to convey to Jane- dear, sweet, compassionate Jane- that she was sorry and that she would behave so again. Jane seemed near tears herself but could only manage to say that they did not intend for her marriage to be a punishment. They simply had no other alternatives before them. Lizzy looked devastated as well. The entire exchange was a blow to Lydia. She had often assumed her father's indolence to be mere weakness on his part and she had behaved with the assurance that her mother could always be depended upon to convince him. Prior to her elopement, she would have laughed and told her aunt and uncle that she would find a _dear_ friend to stay with. But, Wickham's words were not so easily forgotten- she was insignificant. Her family's pressure on her to marry served to reinforce this belief. Something about the still expressions and manner of her aunt and uncle led her to conclude that their words were not to be taken as empty threats.

Eventually, under Jane's tender manner, she began to calm herself. Quietly, she informed them of her decision to marry the man that had been chosen for her, much to their collective relief. Beyond this, she did not venture to speak. She expected them all to leave her there and then, congratulating themselves on their victory. But, here she was unjust. Jane and Elizabeth elected to remain with her. They did not attempt to point out to her the advantages of her marriage. And, for this, Lydia was exceedingly grateful. For the first time since her escape from Mr Wickham, she was glad that her mother had not come.

Elizabeth was aware of Lydia's displeasure with her though she could not point to a cause. She felt that it would be imprudent to speak and hence remained silent. Jane could not think of anything to say that would not sound false and contrived, so she did not speak either. It was some time before Lydia fell asleep and either Jane or Elizabeth stirred.

When they returned to their room, Elizabeth could not help but observe, "Dearest Jane! I confess that I am reconsidering my decision to marry for nothing less than love."

Jane was startled. "I know that you cannot mean that, Lizzy. Have you not always said that nothing but the deepest love could ever induce you into matrimony? Come, Lizzy, you are merely fatigued."

Elizabeth could not agree. "Jane, I had never considered Mama's fears as seriously as I ought. Papa was in good health and Mama has often been known to fancy herself nervous when she is dissatisfied. I ought to have realised that, though the _manner_ in which she expressed herself was wanting, her fears were not unjustified. I did not hesitate before I refused Mr Collins or even Mr Darcy. I had always assumed that you, Kitty and Lydia would make good marriages before Papa passed away. I had also supposed that, did I not find the man whom I would be willing to marry, which I did not _truly_ doubt; I would be very pleased indeed to take delight in my numerous nephews and nieces. Yet, until Lydia eloped, I did not appreciate how precarious my own position was. Had father passed away before at least half of us were married, we would not only be at the mercy of Mr Collins, we would also be unable to find gainful employment for we are not accomplished women. If Mr Darcy had not intervened, I dread to think how I would be berating myself at this time and regretting my headstrong refusals."

"The fault does not lie with you alone, if we must apportion fault. Had I been less cautious in demonstrating my regard to Mr Bingley-" Here her sister interrupted her with some distress for it had not been her intention to criticise her sister. But Miss Bennet was firm. "No, Lizzy; I cannot use your sisterly regard for me to hide from the truth. I _am_ the eldest. It was my duty to marry well. Yet, though many men have shown me preference and admiration since I have been fifteen, I have been overly cautious in _my_ approach towards them."

"There is nothing wrong, Jane, in caution! It is against your nature, dear, to encourage a man before you are certain of your own regard and of his character" protested her sister, hotly.

"I cannot be sure that it _was_ caution, Lizzy! At the time, though I _claimed_ to myself that I wished to be certain of their character, I was, in reality, merely seeking to assure myself that I could eventually fall deeply in love with them. But, now, I wish that I had been wiser. Had I married a man of good sense and a respectable fortune earlier, I may have developed some affection for him in the future and Mama would not have taken it upon herself to have all her daughters out at the same time, when Mary, Kitty and Lydia were far from prepared. I could have assisted her in bringing them out one by one and, with individual attention and care, they could have conducted themselves better. But, I acted according to my wishes and contrary to my better judgment and my sisters pay the price. I found love in Mr Bingley but that has not benefitted us. No; Lizzy, you shall not convince me of my innocence."

Elizabeth had quite begun to regret her cynical remark. She could not bear to see her sister in pain. "Jane, you must not blame yourself for Lydia's thoughtless actions. It is true that you and I have been preoccupied in the ideal and have quite neglected more practical considerations. Though I still maintain that Charlotte was not correct in her acceptance of our cousin, I heartily wish that I had not been so dismissive of her words in the past. Even so, I wish that Papa had been more attentive to our education. I declare that I am ashamed to admit that Lady Catherine de Bourgh's censure of our upbringing was not without merit, though it was condescending and hypocritical, considering that many faults she had pointed out in _us_ were equally present in her own daughter!"

Jane shook her head. "Lizzy, I see no purpose of this incessant regret. We cannot undo the past. But, it is possible for us to act righteously in the future. I am resolved that I shall take greater interest in Mary and Kitty in the future. I only pray that Lydia does not squander this opportunity and resolves comport herself with greater dignity as the wife of a man whose success may depend, at least partially, on her behaviour."

Elizabeth replied, "I fear that we have placed enough blame on Lydia, Jane. She is in the wrong, undoubtedly; but she suffers far more for an incident wherein both parties are equally to blame. Lydia may have acted thoughtlessly, but Wickham's actions were based on avarice and malice. She should not have treated an elopement as a joke, but, he should not have preyed upon a child of fifteen!"

Jane was silent. She could not deny the truth of this. Elizabeth continued. "Jane, I must confess something to you. I have been dreadfully selfish. I have indulged in righteous anger against my sister when I should have been more compassionate and understanding because I was conscious, from the moment that I received your letter, that Lydia's actions had ruined my own chances at happiness!" She burst into tears. Miss Bennet was startled and asked her what she meant.

"Ever since I met Mr Darcy on the grounds of Pemberley and observed his changed manner, I began to develop a certain regard for him. I believed that I could love him, even. But, when I read that Lydia had eloped with Mr Wickham, I knew that there could be no future between Mr Darcy and I. Brother-in-law to Mr Wickham! Could there be a more humiliating picture? I was angry that Lydia had put us all in danger but my anger only increased as she demanded to be taken back to Mama. I could only see that it was all a game to her, that she was not willing to face the consequences of her actions that her entire family would be forced to endure! I should have been kinder and more patient, but I allowed my temper to overcome me. Lydia, I think, sensed it. She does not speak to me. And I still think of Mr Darcy with tenderness and I am tormented by the thought that we could have been happy, if not for Lydia. Oh, Jane, I am wretched indeed!"

Jane had grown steadily more surprised as her sister confessed her growing affection for Mr Darcy, a man whom she had regarded poorly and whose offer of marriage she had refused once already. She assured her sister that Mr Darcy must still have some feelings for her. Why else would he take such pains to ensure the well-being of her sister? But, Elizabeth was not hopeful. Mr Darcy himself had said that his motive for seeking Mr Wickham and Lydia was because he had held himself responsible, in part, for the incident. Jane remained unconvinced. She could not take it upon herself to _say_ why, but she nevertheless _felt_ that Mr Darcy still held her sister in affection and regard. She was sure that Mr Darcy would soon seek out an opportunity to renew his address to Lizzy. However, she did not want to give rise to hope that could only result in disappointment and so, merely offered words of comfort. They could not dwell on their problems and refuse to partake in rest for they had to lend Lydia their strength on the next day.

**A/N:**

**First of all, I would like to thank everyone for their support! Please review so that I can improve the story!**

**Second, I'm going to address some concerns that the readers brought up:**

**A.****Steve Zawacki (Guest)**** made the following point: ****_"…Mr Gardiner would be going to Longbourn to get the children, who were left there with their cousin Jane, rather than to Lambton as you mistakenly wrote…"_**

**I did do a double check and I bring your attention to Chapter 36 of the novel: ****_"As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home, it was settled that she and her children should go to London, at the same time that Mr. Bennet came from it. The coach, therefore, took them the first stage of their journey, and brought its master back to Longbourn." _****I know that Mrs Gardiner did not have a brother in the book but it was necessary fiction for narrative convenience. **

**B. Reviewers pointed out that 10,000 pounds was a bit steep and not very realistic but that was the sum indicated by Austen in three places and never contradicted: by Mr Bennet himself, by Elizabeth and by Jane (all in chapter 37). The large sum is necessary because: (a) It is necessary to demonstrate the strength of Mr Darcy's regard (b) It should be a sum that could not be repaid by Mr Bennet or Mr Gardiner, either separately or jointly. It was also pointed out (by ****'Guest'****) that with that kind of dowry, Lydia could be married to a man with an estate. But, I beg to differ because time would be of the essence in a patched-up marriage. They would not have the time to scour gentlemen with impoverished estates, who themselves would be the object of interest for rich daughters of tradesmen. Remember, class during the Regency would not be dependent on wealth and rich and moderately confortable tradespeople were forever trying to hitch their daughters of gentry and were met with reciprocity. **

**C.****mangosmum**** made two criticisms:**

**i****_."Too many slang terms that need looking up made it annoying"_****\- As an author, I have to rely on the intelligence of the readers to a certain degree. The notes at the end of chapter I were meant to clarify (in case of doubt) but even without them, the meanings were apparent from the context. **

**ii****_."_****_ I can't see Lydia with a barrister."_****\- It was either a barrister or a clergyman, her taste for officers having soured after Mr Wickham. **


	5. Chapter V

Chapter V

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman on the threshold of her nuptials cannot sleep well. However little known as the feelings of the bride, all the world is certain that she must be equally excited and nervous; at once curious as to her future as the wife of a man and also longing for the familiarity of her girlhood. Unfortunately, the world is not in a similar haste to contemplate the feelings of the bride-groom. If asked to consider, it would be the general consensus that he would be pleased; but no-one would think that a gentleman would lose his sleep over the prospect of his own matrimony.

Lydia's night resembled the night of most brides who were to be married the next day: she could scarcely sleep. But though her condition may be reminiscent of those fortunate women, her feelings were quite the opposite. She feared taking ill people of bountiful good-health often did but it seemed unavoidable in the circumstances. Her sleep had been plagued with dreadful dreams since her return to Gracechurch Street and her waking hours were spent in unbearable solitude, wherein she could allow herself to feel nothing but anger and despair and her appetite had declined dramatically. She was unsure as to whether to enquire after the stranger who was to become her husband or to be docile and simply comply with the demands imposed on her, without offering any resistance. She decided on the latter course, for she felt that the former would be futile. While this was certainly a sensible decision, she was simultaneously disgusted at her own meekness and frightened at the extent and the effects of her fatigue.

The night before her impending nuptials was worse than she had ever experienced in her lifetime. It seemed that she slept only for a couple minutes at a time before she was awakened by discomfiture, both of her body and of her mind. She had not taken part in the chusing of her wedding attire except to accept the gown presented before her. That the gown was not white but rather a close shade did not escape her. It was the first time she had cause to regret her fine eye for colour. She guessed that her aunt and Jane had painstakingly laboured over the choice of shade. It would not do tacitly lie before God in a Church by presenting Lydia as a maiden but the bride-groom might take offence if she were dressed in another colour. Lydia could not supress a shudder as she beheld her own future: to be eternally servile and beholden to her future husband.

The results of her turmoil were unsurprising. She appeared at her own wedding looking tired and harassed. But she was glad for the presence of Jane and Lizzy. She could not have borne Kitty's envy, Mary's sermons or her Mother's joy. Jane and Lizzy merely gave comfort. Lydia was also glad that her groom was not an officer in the militia. Lydia would be pleased if she never saw a red-coat in her life again. She was not curious about her fiancé. She was doing as she was told as there was a shortage of alternatives before her and, though it had never been explicitly spoken, she understood that it was her past disobedience which had brought her to these circumstances. She felt as though she was merely a spectator to events to which she herself was not subject. This curious sense of detachment persisted until she laid her eyes on the bride-groom presented.

Each stared at the other in horror, but for widely different reasons. Lydia's fascination could only be described as morbid. Her gaze was transfixed by the repellent face before her and she stared in a manner that would be uncivil had it not been for the mitigating circumstance that she was seeing him for the first time. She found it difficult to avert her eyes from the single green one that regarded her, though she desperately wished to. It was, without a single doubt, the ugliest face in England; perhaps, in the entire British Isles.

As for Mr Rand-Brown, he lost his composure entirely. Since the day Mr Darcy had extracted from him a promise to wed a compromised gentlewoman in exchange for an elevation to the bar and a substantial sum of money, he had endured portents of unprecedented magnitude. He was ecstatic, to be sure, for he had never allowed himself to hope that he would rise above the level of a solicitor and had deeply feared that he would have to live out his days as a country attorney. Indeed, he had been regarded with a blend of pity and contempt by his colleagues and superiors for being a brilliant young lawyer who was sadly in possession of a vulgar degree of ambition and, hence, was to be avoided at all costs. How he had burned! That fellows possessing lesser than a fifth of his skill and a tenth of his passion should supersede him for no other reason than that they were well-connected whereas he was a son of a poor clerk was more than flesh and bone could bear!

He had been shocked to learn the sum that was to be settled upon him. He had wanted to refuse it but he realised that he could not do so. The promise of being called to the bar may satisfy him but he must also bear responsibility for his new wife and he had no funds from which to draw from until he made his fortune from practicing the law. For the present, he would be forced to utilise the monies so given to him. Despite this turn in fortune, he was Christian enough to feel all the agony which accompanied the realisation that his good fortune depended on the ruination of another human being. He was also intimidated at the prospect of marrying, in any instance; but, the thought of marrying the daughter of a gentleman was daunting for his experience with the gentry had been characterised by incessant hostility.

As with Lydia, his respite of the previous night had not been restful. He had seldom entertained the possibility of marrying. He harboured no illusions as to his appearance and had experienced the cruel pity of women who had sought to be kind to him in the past. He would go so far as to claim that these attempts at compassion were far less preferable to the taunts of other children in his boyhood. He had been both pleased at the prospect of acquiring a wife and ashamed of the means which were required to achieve this end. However, even at his most sanguine, he had only expected a plain wife. Foolishly, he had assumed that the gentlewoman in question would be unremarkable, and hence, pliable to the machinations of a rogue. His assumption had been reinforced by the ten thousand pounds that Mr Darcy had offered. It had seemed that a substantial sum _had_ to be offered as inducement because the lady had little else to recommend her.

He had most certainly not expected the youthful creature that was presented to him. If anything, he would have been far less surprised had the bride been senior to him by a few years. And she was far from plain. She was, in fact, the _loveliest_ thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Even fatigued and despondent, she made the breath quicken and the pulse race. Mr Rand-Brown was never more mortified in his life. The agonies of using another's misfortunes for his advancement were a mere trifle before this latest development. He was not a stupid man. He knew that her feelings could not mirror his and he had been regarded with the same morbid fascination enough times in the past to recognise it.

His feelings were in such a tumult that he scarcely attended the clergyman. He was, at once, furious with himself for leaping to baseless assumptions about his fiancée, elated to be married to a creature so fetching, slightly resentful that she did not respond to him as he had to her and excited as to their future together. He was merely aware of his surroundings to the extent that he could follow the instructions issued to him without causing embarrassment. In this, he was fortunate; for he did not observe his bride studiously avoided looking at his person.

Jane and Lizzy were similarly struck by appearance of their new brother. They were sufficiently in ignorance of his character to be able to hope that he would be a kind husband to their sister but were sufficiently knowledgeable in hers to doubt that she would be a good wife to him. Miss Bennet took Lydia's silence as demonstration of her mellowed spirits whereas Elizabeth was inclined to attribute it to shock. Neither was wrong. They were both eager for the ceremony to conclude at the earliest so that they may dispatch the news to Longbourn. They were also anxious for opportunity for conversation. Their Aunt and Uncle were simply relieved that a marriage was taking place. Their Uncle leaned and whispered to his wife and Elizabeth, though not meaning to, heard his remark.

"You are certain, Madeline, that she is not with child?"

"Yes; her courses began."

Elizabeth blushed in distress. Speaking of such a matter as monthly courses was indecorous and to a man, unthinkable! Yet, it had been necessary. Elizabeth was truly feeling contrite for her earlier ill-nature. How Lydia must have suffered at the hands of that villain Wickham! Elizabeth had known that he was unprincipled but she had not thought him capable of selling a mere child who had lovingly attached herself to him for a profit. And her sister suffered still. Her future had been decided and arranged without consulting her. Her family were helpless in the teeth of their own limitations and her person had been subject to humiliating speculation by all. Elizabeth felt her eyes prick with angry tears. And the man who bore more than half the blame in the matter would suffer no consequences! Could the Lord have created such an unjust world? Here, her musings was interrupted. The ceremony was complete and the clergyman had asked the groom to kiss the bride.

The scene before them was regarded with horror by the bride's family. They waited breathlessly for Lydia to mortify her new husband. As they had anticipated, when he leaned towards her to kiss her, she turned her face sharply away, her eyes closed. Mr Rand-Brown was gracious enough to pretend that it did not affect him, though it could not be doubted that he was wounded. Jane pitied him for his hurt, Elizabeth felt embarrassed at his public humiliation and Mrs Gardiner feared that he would become angry with Lydia and demonstrate it in private. In reality, the bride-groom had anticipated her rejection and, although had felt all the emotions that his new family had guessed, did not feel it to a very large degree and excused her lack of self-regulation on account of her youth and the difficult situation in which she found herself for what seemed to be an indiscretion, albeit a monstrous one.

They proceeded to Gracechurch Street for the wedding breakfast. Mr and Mrs Gardiner were exceedingly hospitable; greater than the circumstances merited. Mr Gardiner was free to enjoy the conversation with his guest, being far more relaxed than during their previous meeting. In Mrs Gardiner and his new sisters Mr Rand-Brown found much to admire, especially their good sense and excellent breeding. They, in turn, were pleased at his evident intelligence and found his manners, though not charming, to be polite and welcoming. His skill at conversation at conversation was universally admired and they felt some relief that it was he who was their brother. The entire morning was a greater success than anyone had hoped. There was no allusion made to the shameful circumstances that precipitated the occasion and the bride-groom did not embarrass his new family with pretensions of love nor did he impress them with an expectation of gratitude. His sense and manners lent the occasion the atmosphere of an arranged marriage.

As the meal drew to a close, the bride and her new husband made preparations to leave for his lodgings. Lydia had not uttered a single word during the ceremony or breakfast but her sisters were pleased to witness a marked improvement in her appetite. While she did not feed so heartily as prior to her elopement, her meal was adequate for a girl of her proportions. Jane drew her aside and promised to persuade their father to receive her at Longbourn at the earliest. At this, Lydia started. She had been given to understand that her marriage was a necessary precondition to her welcome at Longbourn but she had not thought that the restriction would continue even after her wedding. She was dismayed and left the house with an air of irrepressible despondency.

"Lydia is fortunate," commented Elizabeth after they had left. "He is an engaging gentleman, to be sure. As for his sense, I do not think he is wanting."

Her sister expressed an earnest desire for their matrimonial felicity. "'Tis true that he is not handsome but his countenance is pleasing. He expresses himself exceedingly well and is in possession of a gift for listening. I hope that he is kind to our Lydia. I was touched by his behaviour in the face of her public rejection of him. I can certainly believe that there is every chance of their finding happiness together in the future."

"Certainly" replied Elizabeth, with a smile. "However, I do not think that Lydia can appreciate the same qualities in a gentleman that we can at her age. I do not say that she is incapable of regarding him with esteem and affection. I merely conjecture that it will be some years before she does. I can only pray that Lydia does not revert to her former boisterous ways. Can we hope that her entire character has undergone a material change at present and that she will not lose her meekness in the near future?"

Miss Benet was of the opinion that Lydia's mind had improved dramatically. "Consider, Lizzy, that we arrived at Church with every expectation of histrionics on Lydia's part. Yet, she did not register any protest either then or subsequently. She did not allow him to kiss her and she has not spoken to him, certainly, but that could be born out of embarrassment and not disinterest. It is not impossible that she will be more accepting of him when they are alone. Remember, she has suffered a great blow in love and has narrowly escaped terrible danger. She will never be as fearless as she once was. Though, I am sorry that she has lost her childhood in a single stroke, I cannot regret that she is no longer reckless." With this, Elizabeth was forced to be content.

The subjects of the preceding discussion had not spoken a word to each other. Lydia, for her part, did not wish to behold her husband's face. Each minute in the carriage was spent dreading the physical intimacy which she knew that they must share, as man and wife. She desperately wished for her former gay self who could spurn his advances with a mixture of contempt and laughter. But it seemed that Wickham was a third person in the carriage. He reminded her of her own insignificance. She was cheap and without value to gentlemen. Try as she might, she could not recall any instance of any gentleman offering her more than a light flirtation, with the exception of Wickham. When there had been two or more gentlemen vying for her attention and she had preferred one gentleman over another, the former promptly shifted his attentions elsewhere, only to be resumed when his rival was absent. It had all been in good fun and had never caused her the slightest discomfort before. But, she could not be indifferent to Wickham's behaviour. He had taken his fill of her and had even been willing to marry her, subject to receiving a substantial sun, even though he had cherished her sister, Elizabeth. She had recalled every private minute that they had spent together and could not help but wonder if Wickham had thought of Elizabeth when he had paid her attentions. The thought was crushing!

Her husband's mind was scarcely more pleasantly engaged than hers was. He wished to openly and unabashedly stare at her face in admiration for as long as he was satisfied; but he was too familiar with being made aware that his attentions were unwelcome to attempt to express his appreciation for her beauty. He was not in possession of a cruel nature and he noted her sadness with pain. But, he was unsure of the cause. She could be saddened at the loss of her lover, unhappy at the prospect of marrying an ugly man, dissatisfied that her future was a product of a contract between two gentlemen or a combination of all three. He did not wish to pain her further by speaking thoughtlessly. He opened his lips several times to assure her of his commitment to their marriage vows but never actually spoke the words, unsure as to how they would be received. Eventually, he managed to ask her a question about her family.

Lydia started, surprised at being addressed, and unthinkingly turned to face him. She regretted it instantaneously but had neither the grace nor the desire to avoid hurting him. Her disgust at his visage became apparent on her countenance and his compassion transformed at once into anger. _He_ could not help his crowed teeth, _he_ had not invited that drunken sailor to stab his eye and _he_ most certainly did not ask for the pox which left the mark of its ravages on him and that killed his late mother. _She_, at least, could have avoided her current predicament by behaving in accordance with her birth and station in life. But, just as he articulated the thought in his mind, he felt the injustice of it. She was young. Women, older and wiser than she, had been duped by the attentions of a charming gentleman. He himself had witnessed many solid, dependable and respectable husbands bring charges of conversion against wastrels who had unwisely dallied with their wives. Undoubtedly, the greater foolishness was practiced by the wives who had exchanged the love and trust of their husbands for a few worthless nights of passion. Ruefully, he conceded that if women had the power to bring charges of conversion against their husbands, he would have witnessed twice the charges.

Contemplating the law and recalling his professional experiences had a pacific effect upon him. He forgot the feeling of offence that Lydia had given him, though he did not forget the offence itself. He recalled his earlier promise that he would cease to make assumptions about her. That she had been a victim of a duplicitous scoundrel, he did not doubt; but it did not follow that she was a sweet and kind girl. She could just as easily be ill-natured and stupid. He would have to undertake the systematic study of her character before acting in any respect towards her. He could not instruct her when he did not have any indication of whether she would obey or otherwise. Ten thousand pounds was a princely sum but Mr Rand-Brown was resolute in that it should not be spent frivolously. He intended that Lydia should assist him in all his endeavours. Until he could be firmly established in his practice, she would have to manage with limited domestic help. Equally, he was determined that would have to serve as a substitute until he had amassed enough practice and could afford to hire a law-clerk. Thus, Mr and Mrs Rand-Brown arrived at their home with the former filled with good resolutions and the latter bitterly reflecting that she had achieved her wish of marrying before any of her elder sisters.

**I dedicate this chapter to ****Joan G. Brand**** and ****EngLitLover**.


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter VI

The first sen'night of the fortuitous marriage between Mr Rand-Brown and his young bride was unremarkable. Mr Rand-Brown had very little interest in anything apart from the law and his professional ambitions. Moreover, he was inclined to frugality being, as he was, the son of a lowly clerk. Though he was deeply enamoured with his new wife, his affection did not extend to lavish or even moderate expenditure. He had no desire for a wedding trip, regular visits to the theatre or for expensive meals. And, even if he were so inclined towards extravagance, his anxiety regarding his imminent professional elevation did not permit him to direct much of his attention towards Lydia, apart from an occasional kind remark.

Lydia, for her part, resented his seeming indifference. It seemed that her new husband had no interest in her apart from the advantages that she brought into the marriage. She was not ungrateful towards him. He always spoke gently to her. After her father's cruel ridicule of their mother and Wickham's false flattery towards herself, she could not help but be pleased with it in the way that a neglected child would be on the receipt of approving attention. But, it would have soothed her injured spirits to have been wooed a little. Undoubtedly, she would have been disgusted at flirtation. But she was woman enough to long for pretty compliments.

She had been angry when, upon their second day of marriage, he had asked her how long it would take for her to accustom herself to her new station and assume her household responsibilities. She had been surprised. That marriage and wifehood involved work had not occurred to her at the time of elopement. She was ignorant about the most rudimentary of matters in connexion with the management of a home, her sisters having taken care of the household since they were able in conjunction with the indispensable Hill.

Her surprise, in turn, seemed to surprise her husband. He raised his brow in inquiry. Lydia incorrectly understood the gesture to be one of contempt. In truth, Mr Rand-Brown merely wondered if his young bride did not realise that being a wife in the military required her to possess advanced skills in frugality. Lydia was mortified and humiliated. It seemed to her husband was contemplating her lack of worth. Observing her discomfiture, her husband was immediately contrite.

"I daresay that you shall learn soon enough, my dear. You certainly seem to be an intelligent young woman."

These words had the opposite effect than what was intended by Mr Rand-Brown. Lydia felt insulted. It seemed to her that her husband had spoken with sarcasm and contempt. Her eyes filled with bitter and angry tears. She should not have attached herself to Wickham! She should have anticipated the consequences of her actions! But she wished that everyone would stop reminding her of her mistakes. She had paid the price. She was wed to the ugliest man that could be envisioned!

Mr Rand Brown noted her tears with mild alarm and a vague sense of amusement. He could not guess what he had done to distress her thus. He had always supposed that being considered intelligent was a compliment. He concluded that perhaps it was due to the fact that she was a woman. They were certainly known to be irrational creatures and his little wife did not seem to be an exception [1].

Nevertheless, he took the effort to procure some dozen roses for her that very same day. He did not wish for her to be unhappy. Indeed, it was unquestionably the dearest wish of his heart that she should be the happiest of creatures, being wed to him. But, he did not trouble himself with dreams that may not come to fruition. He was, by all accounts, an immensely rational man and quite disinclined towards romanticism and rather averse to sentimentality. He did not believe that any woman could free herself of her weakness for a handsome face. However, he was just enough to admit that vulnerability towards beauty was, perhaps, greater in his own sex.

Lydia, for her part, was surprised by the gift of the flowers. She could not help but be pleased. But her pleasure was not unmixed by a sense of embarrassment. Wickham had certainly never purchased so much as a ribbon for her, much less the delightful blossoms that she saw before her. Yet, she was still fanciful enough to wish that the presentation had come from a more comely face. Despite this desire, she had certainly learnt enough in the past few days to thank him with some discomfiture.

Her husband was pleased with her and laid his hand upon hers. Lydia struggled to maintain her composure. She was mindful of the fact that she had no home apart from her husband's. Unfortunately, the ability to maintain composure in uncomfortable situations requires constant practice and Lydia had not the discipline nor, indeed, the necessity to master the skills required to navigate the embarrassing position which she found herself in. Her husband paled with anger and withdrew his hand in cold dignity.

"I shall certainly be more mindful in procuring presents for the new Mrs Rand-Brown" thought he angrily to himself as he returned to his solace- his books of law. He returned greatly refreshed and broached the subject of the management of the household to Lydia once again, just as they sat down to supper.

"I have made the necessary arrangements to engage a woman to cook and clean for us. I trust that twenty-five pounds a month should suffice for her wages, the regular household expenses and for your pin money?" [2]

Lydia deigned to reply. She had no experience or knowledge and she was loath to admit it. Tears formed in her eyes. She recalled Wickham's words of that fateful evening. The feeling of being without worth and value manifested itself once again. She felt exhausted and frightened, However, her husband did not notice these portents, being quite preoccupied with his studies. Absentmindedly, he continued "Forgive me for this seeming miserliness, m'dear. I have no doubt that you were the recipient of greater comforts in your father's home. But you must understand that it would be quite insensible to squander away Mr Darcy's generous presentation before I can establish myself as a barrister and earn an independent income of some substance. But I have no doubt that it will not be long before I do so." Lydia merely kept her face averted and ate.

The next day, Lydia received a letter from her mother. She began to read with misgiving and apprehension.

_My dearest Lydia,_

_I cannot even begin to express, my dear, how overjoyed I am to hear that you are wed! A daughter married! Mrs Rand-Brown! How elegant that sounds! And I am very glad indeed that it is not Mrs Wickham. Horrid, hateful man! To trick a poor child into elopement and to refuse to wed her! He is not a gentleman, to be sure. _

_My dear- your sisters Jane and Lizzy and I have done all that we can to persuade your father to allow you to return home and present your husband to us all. But Mr Bennet does not allow himself to be convinced! He has no compassion for me! How can he be so cruel towards his own children? It is nonsense to say that it is because all of Meryton knows that it was Wickham with whom you eloped and that to present a different husband would suggest an unsavoury arrangement. Why it is the silliest thing that I have ever heard! _

_Jane tells me that my new son is less than handsome. But you must not allow yourself to be disheartened by that. He has a sufficient income, I am told. Is he amiable? Does he give you sufficient pin-money? I am so unhappy that I could not be present on the wedding day. It is most unfair that my sister Gardiner should have witnessed what I, the bride's own mother, was unable to! Be sure to use your pin-money wisely. Men wish for pretty wives, to be sure. _

_I apologise for the short length of my missive, my dearest. But I am called upon to play the hostess for Mr Bingley once again! He has returned to Netherfield at last! His sisters do not accompany him but the odious Mr Darcy does. But I shall not worry myself about Mr Darcy. There seems to be every likelihood that Mr Bingley has returned for the sole purpose of marrying my Jane! Just think of it! Two daughters married! I feel quite faint from the prospect! Now- I bid you adieu. _

_Yours lovingly,_

_Mama _

Lydia reception of the letter was one of mixed feelings. She was pleased that her mother had acknowledged Wickham's villainy and her own blamelessness. She was equally relieved that her father had refused to have her and her new husband at Longbourn. She could not bear the prospect of the neighbours laugh at her misfortune in being married to the ugliest man on the British Isles! But worse would be the sarcastic satisfaction of her father and the attempts of her mother to console. And worst of all would be the quiet triumph of her sisters Kitty and Mary. A visit to Longbourn would be more than she could bear.

Lydia was glad of Mr Bingley's return. She had rather liked him. He was obliging, amiable and fond of dancing. She had been slightly dismissive of him in the past for he did not wear a red coat but that seemed a certain advantage at the present time. She hoped that he and Jane did marry. Her sister deserved every happiness that could be afforded to her. But Lydia was not so sanguine about the presence of Mr Darcy. She was mindful of his role in her rescue but she was also decidedly angry at his interest in Elizabeth. Although she did not care for Wickham any longer, she was infuriated at his praise of her sister. That the wealthy and eminent Mr Darcy should wish to marry the least impressive of the Bennet sisters was unjust in the extreme!

Mr Rand-Brown, for his part, was curious as to his new family. His new sisters Jane and Elizabeth were gentlewomen, to be sure and he was pleased to acquire them as family connexions. But Mr Rand-Brown was also a practical individual. It was but a natural consequence of relative poverty and being part of the working class. He was additionally pleased as it was likely that they would contract respectable, if not advantageous, marriages. Mr Rand-Brown was aware of the value of connections.

"Who was it who wrote?" he enquired of his wife.

"It is my mother" replied she. After a moment's hesitation, she continued, "She writes to say that it will be some time before Papa agrees to receive us at Longbourn"

Mr Rand-Brown, being a barrister in training, was in possession of an abundance of tact. He did not respond to the statement. "Is that all?" asked he, hoping that he would learn something of substance in this conversation.

Once again, Lydia hesitated. She had been sad and lonely since her marriage and did not enjoy recalling that she was, indeed, married. But the question afforded her an opportunity to think and talk of something other than her present troubles.

"Mr Bingley has returned to Netherfield", said she and proceeded to narrate the events of the past few months regarding Mr Bingley's occupation of Netherfield, the expectation of his marrying her sister Jane and his disappointing quittance of the estate before becoming engaged.

Lydia was disconcerted by his single eye transfixed on her and the quiet alertness with which Mr Rand-Brown listened to her. She was accustomed to flirtation and teasing which involved rapid banter, uncontrolled laughter and easy smiles. The unwavering attention that was being paid to her perturbed her. She finished the story with relief.

"But why should Mr Bingley quit his circumstances before declaring himself if he that was his intention?" asked he after listening to the story.

"Lizzy suspects that it was the work of Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst and perhaps, of Mr Darcy as well."

Mr Rand-Brown was bemused. "Indeed. Just so. But why should Mr Bingley have allowed himself to be persuaded? Now- I am certain that Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley's sisters must have been motivated by the best of reasons to caution the gentleman against declaring himself. Perhaps it was an intimate knowledge of his character, a misunderstanding of Miss Bennet or perhaps even for selfish reasons. We have no way of knowing. But regardless of their reasons, is Mr Bingley not his own man? Does he not know his own mind? What is it that prevents him from determining his own wishes and acting accordingly? I am afraid that I do not like our Mr Bingley and I hope that Miss Bennet refuses him, should he propose marriage"

Lydia was astonished. "Refuse an offer of marriage? Jane is three-and-twenty, sir! She cannot refuse any man, much less one of an annual income of five thousand pounds!"

Mr Rand-Brown smiled "I concede that, madam. However, I think I am being sensible when I say that I wish Miss Bennet would not trust him. Oh- it is too late to hope that she will not _love_ him. From what you tell me, it is almost certain that she does. But I would not want my sister to be married to a man so fickle and easy to persuade! Especially if he is surrounded by people so eager to take advantage of his easy nature and general amiability."

Lydia had not previously considered any of the arguments raised by Mr Rand-Brown. She was slightly disturbed. She knew that Jane wished to marry Mr Bingley and even if it were otherwise, their mother simply would not allow it. Jane had been sought after since she had been fifteen but none of her suitors had proposed marriage. Lydia had assumed that desperation alone would move Miss Bennet to accept any suitor since she became twenty. She recalled her own determination to be wed at the earliest.

Now, Lydia regarded the man seated before her. His hideousness was magnificent. It repelled her. However, she became aware of a simultaneous sense of uncertainty as to whether she was better positioned now than her sister would be with the rich and handsome Mr Bingley. She went to bed that night deeply troubled and wondered if she, like Jane, should have waited before deciding on marrying.

**Author's notes: **

**Apologies for the hiatus! I hope to upload more frequently at least until the quarantine is lifted. **

**In the previous chapter, many readers pointed out that the white wedding dress was an anachronism. Thank you all! I will see to it when I edit. **

**[1] Yes, I am aware that the statement is a little sexist. I aim for historical accuracy and I also wish to depict a flawed character that also learns and grows with the story **

**[2] This number is based on the information on and I've also factored Mr Rand-Brown's background as the son of a mere clerk**


	7. Chapter VII

Chapter VII

Mr Bingley's return occasioned several outbursts from the lady of the house- each with increasing frequency and violence. Mr Bennet, though he pretended unconcern at Mr Bingley's marital status, was becoming progressively agitated with the circumstances. He attempted to laugh at himself- the nervous complaints and raptures of his lady would influence him, if he were not careful. But, in moments of solitude, it was becoming extremely difficult for him to ignore his worries. Having regretted his own marriage innumerable times, he had resolved not to coerce his children into marriages with partners with whom they were fundamentally unsuited but Lydia's elopement had forced him to reconsider his own indolence.

He acknowledged, if only to himself, that he did not love his children nearly as much as he ought. The reflection saddened him deeply. Certainly, Jane and Lizzy had both his affection and admiration but he did not care for his younger girls except what filial duty demanded. Mary was uninteresting and pretentious and Kitty and Lydia were entirely too similar to Mrs Bennet for him to regard with anything more than tolerance. And, Mr Bennet was honest enough to admit that when he heard of Lydia's elopement, he was far more concerned about the consequences to himself and to his family than for Lydia's future.

He was in his brother's debt. At first, the concern of the Bennets was that a match Wickham and Lydia would be catastrophic or, at the very least, imprudent. But that soon changed to fear that a marriage would not take place at all. And, he-Mr Bennet- would be unable to offer more than three thousand pounds at the most as bribe. If his brothers by marriage, Phillips and Gardiner, were to loan him funds, perhaps, he could offer five or six thousand. But a gentleman would have to be a contemptible fool to take Lydia as wife without _substantial_ inducement, least of all Wickham. She had nothing to offer but youth and good humour. She had neither sense nor wit nor connexions. She did not behave with decorum or propriety.

When his brother Gardiner wrote to him, informing him of the fact that a marriage between Lydia and Wickham was not to take place but to a different gentleman altogether, Mr Bennet was astounded. He was not such a fool to believe that gentlemen would simple agree to marry a young woman without an incentive. That was not the way of society. And the incentive must have been financial and substantial. Mr Bennet did not even for a moment suppose that it was a farthing less than ten thousand pounds. He would have to determine at the very earliest how to repay him. Mr Bennet was very much mindful of the weight of debt upon his shoulders.

Mr Bennet had briefly assumed that Lydia's groom must have been an impoverished member of the gentry. But, upon critical consideration, that could not be so. Impoverished gentlemen owning land were known to prefer rich daughters of tradesmen, seeking to rise above their present situation. And why should a gentleman prefer Lydia over wealthier, well-connected and infinitely more respectable young women? Mr Bennet also doubted that a member of the clergy would be interested in marrying Lydia, a fallen woman. Thus, he concluded that Lydia's new husband must be a military man, a professional man or a tradesman.

His supposition had been confirmed by his daughters upon their return from London. He had invited them into the library as soon as they had partaken in some refreshment. The sisters had let him know that the gentleman in question was an attorney. And that he was exceedingly ugly, a fact which caused their father to feel a perverse sense of satisfaction. But he seemed to have no want of sense or of decorum. But Mr Bennet was not as pleased as he ought to have been. Felicity with Lydia could only be achieved by the possession and exercise of a will of iron.

He did not quiz either of his daughters as to the inducement that Mr Rand-Brown had taken to marry his daughter nor did he enquire as to Lydia's well-being. Instead, he informed them of his plan to remove to London for some months, with them.

Jane and Lizzy were astonished. Their father's hatred of London was well-known. Jane presumed that it would be to visit Lydia. And Lizzy assumed that it would be to meet with their Uncle Gardiner. In this, the presumptions of both were ill-conceived.

"My dearest Lizzy and Jane, I have been remiss in my duties as a parent. You have my apologies- you have to bear the burden of Lydia's thoughtlessness. But, it cannot be pretended any that your mother's lamentations are baseless. Lydia's elopement has sharply alerted me to our situations. Had your Uncle Gardiner not taken the steps which he had, our circumstances would have been desperate and tragic indeed. I have therefore determined that we must forsake our present means of expectation- that opportunity will happen upon us. Oh, pray, do not look so ill! It is distasteful even to myself to speak in such a manner. But I can no longer pretend that I have been reprehensible in my conduct."

Jane and Elizabeth hastened to reassure him. But Mr Bennet was immovable, as some indolent men are, when they have decided to act. Ms Bennet and Elizabeth heard his words with sadness and apprehension. Their father had never imposed his will upon his daughters nor had he partaken in their upbringing. Despite this, with the exception of Lydia, they respected his authority immensely and Jane and Elizabeth knew that he was correct in his views at present. But they could not pretend to welcome it. They had dreamed of love and esteem in their respective marriages. But it seemed that these wishes would not be fulfilled.

Mr Bennet continued "I do not wish to coerce either of you. But I hope that you appreciate my position? I did not compel you, Lizzy, when you refused Mr Collins' and I maintain that I acted correctly in that instance. And I promise you that I shall do my utmost to respect your wishes even now and in the future. However, I appreciate that we can no longer pretend that we have the, forgive me, time to wait for eligible young men. Nor can we expect to live with so much as a modicum of comfort, nay, respectability; no matter how frugally we live from this point onwards, if none of you are married at the time of my death, even if it be a good quarter of a century from now."

The sisters could not but be hurt at this statement of their present circumstances: it painted their future as exceedingly bleak, indeed. Despite their sadness, they nodded their acquiescence and enquired as to when they would leave. Mr Bennet assured them that it would not be before the end of the month. Miss Bennet, in particular, was distressed. Her mother had wasted no time in informing her that Mr Bingley had returned and had taken up residence at Netherfield once more.

Miss Bennet's mind and heart were troubled. Was she to believe that Mr Bingley loved her? She knew cared for him deeply but she did not know if she trusted him enough to wed. Should she make the attempt to convey her feelings to the gentleman? Would that result in matrimony- one that she was not entirely sure that she wanted? Or would she be humiliated? However- and this was particularly painful to her- the alternative before her was to entertain other suitors. Was it right to encourage a man for mercenary motives, particularly when she harboured strong affections for another?

Elizabeth was troubled as well. She had received intelligence from her mother, though unwittingly, that "the odious Mr Darcy" had accompanied his friend. It had caused to blush profoundly. She had been touched at his actions with regards to her poor sister, grateful for his tact and admiring of his sense of honour and gentlemanly comportment. Unlike Miss Bennet, she did not doubt that she was the recipient of love. But, she could not anticipate Mr Darcy's actions. Could a man of such a strong sense of duty and honour be expected to align himself to her, one whose sister was in unfortunate circumstances, albeit of her own making? Elizabeth did not wish to proceed to London any more than did Jane. But, like her sister, she was forced to reconsider her opinions.

But discussion was not to be had that night. The subject of Lydia's marriage formed dominated the conversation at dinner and Mrs Bennet would not be diverted, despite numerous attempts of both the eldest Miss Bennets. Alternatively, that lady demanded to know the minute particulars of the wedding and of the mysterious bride-groom and loudly lamented her own absence. Neither her husband's grave looks nor the embarrassment of her daughters could curb her spirits. The atmosphere was further worsened by Kitty, maudlin and angry, and Mary, virtuous and triumphant. It was therefore with some relief that Jane and Lizzy retired for the evening. Yet, even here, they were accosted by their sisters, who had not been satisfied by their cautious replies to their mother.

"In her letters, Lydia was _determined, _Lizzy, Jane, to be wed to Mr Wickham! And he was _besotted _with her! I cannot believe that either party simply had a change of heart. It cannot be so! And I cannot write to Lydia myself- Papa has forbidden it. You must tell me what has transpired!"

"Must, Kitty?" enquired Lizzy, with a touch of sarcasm.

Kitty had the grace to blush. But, before she could respond, Mary interrupted.

"I declare that do not care for Lydia's conduct at all, Lizzy. But the demands of filial duty are such that I cannot simply ignore the events surrounding her shameful marriage. It is imperative that we comfort ourselves with the knowledge that she has received her just retribution and we mat yet hope that she may repent."

Lizzy controlled her temper with an effort. She invited her two younger sisters to seat themselves to explain the situation, taking pains to approach the subject with care and caution, emphasising on the Lydia's _naiveté, _Wickham's manipulation and Mr Rand-Brown's fortuitous presence and circumstances and carefully avoided assignment of culpability, beyond the requirements of propriety and good sense. Jane, for her part, supplemented her sister's narration with a comment on the role of choice and consequence, expressing every wish of her dear heart that her sister would make an effort at gratitude and seek happiness for herself. But the effects of this painstaking conversation did not appear to have the intended effect on the listeners. Kitty, for her part, was confused as to whether Jane and Lizzy disapproved of Lydia or otherwise. Mary was shocked as she had expected her sisters to condemn Lydia far more strongly. Thus, each party went to bed equally dissatisfied.

The morrow brought news which surprised most of the inhabitants of Longbourn. Mr Bennet received a considerable correspondence, far larger than was custom. In reply to the quizzing expressions that his lady and his daughters directed to him, he informed them, with some measure of perverse delight and to their dismay that he had seen fit to engage tutors for his Kitty and Mary. Elizabeth and Jane were permitted to avail themselves of the services of the said tutors should they wish, but Kitty and Mary had absolutely no choice in the matter.

Kitty began to cry, picturing a cruel tyrant who would hate her for her prettiness and seek to oppress her with lessons till she became a dreadful bore and lost all hopes and chances of receiving gentlemen callers. Mary's countenance went pale with suppressed anger and mortification. She had considered herself and had been generally acknowledged as the most accomplished young woman in the neighbourhood. Her father's tacit derision was most humiliating!

With this momentous announcement, Mr Bennet retired to the library to answer his correspondence , leaving his lady and two young daughters outraged and his two eldest daughters the burden of soothing their injured feelings. And it was in this chaos that Mr Bingley was announced.

With the arrival of that gentleman, Mrs Bennet forgot her vexation with her husband. As Mr Bingley was received into the library, Mrs Bennet took every pain to show her eldest daughter to her best advantage. Her other daughters were instructed that they must promptly exit the room upon her hint. Kitty was confused, Mary indifferent and Elizabeth amused. But Jane did not know how to look or what to feel. She did not believe that Mr Bingley had come for the sole purpose of meeting her. Rather, she had supposed that it was a courtesy to her father. She was determined, however, that she would not meet him with anything less than common politeness.

Mr Bingley, for his part, looked pleased and embarrassed as he entered the room. It seemed that Mr Darcy had not accompanied him. Mr Bingley was received with great ceremony and enthusiasm by Mrs Bennet which he bore with his customary good humour.

"It has been a long time, Mr Bingley, since you went away." Mr Bingley agreed.

"I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People _did_ say you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled. And one of my own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it? Though I would not be surprised if you did not. It was most improperly done. It was only said, 'Lately, Mr Joseph Rand-Brown, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,' without there being a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything. It was my brother Gardiner's drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?'

Mr Bingley, awkward and embarrassed, admitted that he had. Elizabeth and Jane were mortified and did not dare to raise their eyes to look at him. Unaware of these portents, their mother continued, "It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married but at the same time, Mr Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from me. She is put up in London at present and Mr Bennet will not let us visit! He has a terrible aversion to the place. But no doubt Lydia is enjoying herself immensely- parties, balls, gowns! To be sure, she would want for nothing!"

Mr Bingley agreed that there was no shortage of diversions to be found in the capital. Before Mrs Bennet could raise the subject of Lt. Wickham or embarrass them any further, Elizabeth hastily enquired as to whether he intended to remain in the country for long. Mr Bingley, relieved at the change of subject, seized the opportunity.

"My plans, Miss Elizabeth, are indefinite as of now. But I certainly do not expect to leave Netherfield for a few weeks at least."

"When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,' said her mother, 'I beg you will come here, and shoot as many as you please on Mr. Bennet's manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of the covies for you."

Elizabeth's misery increased at such unnecessary, such officious attention! Were the same fair prospect to arise at present as had flattered them a year ago, everything, she was persuaded, would be hastening to the same vexatious conclusion! And nor could she perceive any happiness in her sister. Nor did Jane look _unhappy. _She merely looked disturbed. But this did not prevent Mr Bingley's admiration for her from rekindling. Every five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. He found her as handsome as she had been last year; as good natured, and as unaffected, though not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no difference should be perceived in her at all, and was mind was so busily engaged, that she did not always know when she was silent.

As Mr Bingley rose to leave, Mrs Bennet, mindful of her duty as a parent of four unmarried daughters, graciously invited him to dine at Longbourn in a few days time and even went so far as to include Mr Darcy in her invitation.

"You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr Bingley,' she added, 'for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement."

Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of his concern at having been prevented by business. They then went away.


End file.
